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THE 

ANALOGY 

OF 

RELIGION, 

NATURAL  AND  REVEALED, 

TO   THB 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  OF  NATURE. 

TO    WKKH    ARE  ADDED, 

TWO  BRIEF  DISSERTATIONS: 

ti    ON   PERSONAL   IDENTITY:    AND    II.    ON    THB    NATURB    OF    VIRTUE. 
TOGETHER   "WITH 


A  CHARGE, 


DELIVERED   TO  THE   CLERGY   OF  THE  DIOCESE  OF   DURHAM^  AT  THE 
PRIMARY    VISITATION,    IN   THE   YEAR    1751» 


BY  JOSEPH  BUTLER,  LL.  D. 

XAT£  lobs  bishop  of  SCBBAtf. 


SJVi  (ANALOQIS)  HSC  TI9  XST,  VT  ID   HVOTI    r^VBlVlS.  SST,  AD  AU%I7ID  6Iiai.S  D£ 
SkVO  SOS   aCSBITUBj  BBFEBAT;  VT  IHCZBTA  CIRTIS  FBOBET. 

dUINT.  ISST.  OBAT.  It.  1.  C.  6. 


THIRD  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


TO   WHICH    IS   PREFIXED 

A  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 

BY  DR.  KIPPISj 

WITH    A    PREFACE,   GIVING   SOME   ACCOUNT   OF  HIS  CHARACTER  AND 

WRITINGS, 

BY  SAMUEL  HALIFAX,  D.  D. 

LATE   LORD   BISHOP    OF    GLOUCESTER. 


HARTFORD: 
PUBUSHED  BY  SAMUEL  G.  GOODRICH. 

0.  JT.  HSWGOMB,  rBIBT.  DSEBHSU)* 

1819. 


Dtp.  S. 


THE  LIFE 
OF 

DR.  BUTLER. 


DR.  JOSEPH  BUTLER,  a  prelate  of  the  most  distinguished 
character  and  abilities,  was  born  at  Wantage,  in  Berkshire,  in  the 
year  1692.  His  father,  Mv.  Thomas  Butler,  who  was  a  substantial 
and  reputable  shopkeeper  in  that  town,  observing  in  his  son  Joseph* 
an  excellent  genius  and  inclination  for  learning,  determined  to  edu- 
cate him  for  the  ministry,  among  the  Protestant  dissenters  of  the 
presbyterian  denomination.  For  this,  purpose,  a!fter  he  had  gone 
through  a  proper  course  of  grammatical  literature,  at  the  free-gram- 
mar school  of  his  native  place,  untier  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Philip 
Barton,  a  clergyman  of  the  church  of  England,  he  was  sent  to  a  dis- 
senting academy,  then  kept  at  Gloucester,  but  which  was  soon  after- 
M'ards  removed  to  Tewkesbury.  The  principal  tutor  of  this  academy- 
was  Mr.  Jones,  a  man  of  uncommon  abilities  and  know  ledge,  who 
had  the  honor  of  training  up  several  scholars,  who  became  of  great 
eminence,  both  in  the  established  church  and  among  the  dissenters. 
At  Tewkesbury,  Mr.  Butler  made  an  extraordinary  progress  in  the 
study  of  divinity;  of  which  he  gave  a  remarkable  proof,  in  the  letters 
addressed  by  him,  while  he  resided  at  TewHesbury,  to  Dr.  Samuel 
Clarke,  laying  before  him  the  doubts,  that  had  arisen  in  his  mind, 
concerning  the  conclusiveness  of  some  arguments  in  the  Doctor's 
demonstration  of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God.  The  first  of  these 
letters  was  dated  the  4th  November,  1713;  and  the  sagacity  and  depth 
of  thought  displayed  in  it,  immediately  excited  Dr.  Clarke's  particular 
notice.  This  condescension  encouraged  Mr.  Butler  to  address  the 
Doctor  again  upon  the  same  subject,  which  likewise  was  answered  by 
him;  and  the  correspondence  being  carried  on  in  three  other  letters, 
the  whole  was  annexed  to  the  celebrated  treatise  before  mentioned, 
and  the  collection  has  been  retained  in  all  the  subsequent  editions  of 
that  work.  The  management  of  this  correspondence  was  intrusted 
by  Mr.  Butler,  to  his  friend  and  fellow-pupil,  Mr.  Seeker,  who,  in 
order  to  conceal  the  aft'air,  undertook  to  convey  the  letters  to  the 
post-office  at  Gloucester,  and  to  bring  back  Dr.  Clarke's  answers. 
When  Mr.  Butler's  name  was  discovered  to  the  Doctor,  the  candor, 
modesty,  and  good  sense  with  which  he  had  written,  immediately 
procured  him  the  friendship  of  that  eminent  and  excellent  man.  Our 


•  He  was  the  yo'ingest  of  eight  children. 

275006 


4  THE  LIFE  OF 

^oung  student  was  not,  however,  during  his  continuance  at  Tewkes* 
urjr,  solely  employed  in  metaphysical  speculations  and  inquiries. 
Another  subject  of  his  serious  consideration  was,  the  propriety  of 
his  becoming  a  dissenting  minister.  Accordingly,  he  entered  into 
an  examination  of  the  principles  of  non -conformity ;  the  result  of 
which  was,  such  a  dissatisfaction  with  them,  as  determined  him  to 
conform  to  the  established  ehurch.  This  intention  was,  at  first,  dis- 
agreeable to  his  father,  who  endeavored  to  divert  him  from  his  purpose; 
and,  with  that  view,  called  in  the  assistance  of  some  eminent  pres- 
byterian  divines;  but  finding  his  son's  resalution  to  be  fixed,  ne  at 
length  suffered  him  to  be  removed  to  Oxford,  where  he  was  admitted 
a  commoner  of  Oriel  college  on  the  ITth  March,  1714.  At  what  time 
he  took  orders  doth  not  appear,  nor  who  the  bishop  was  by  whom  he 
was  ordained;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  entered  into  the  church  soon 
after  his  admission  at  Oxfonl,  if  it  be  true,  as  is  asserted,  that 
he  sometimes  assisted  Mr.  Edward  Talbot  in  the  divine  service,  at 
his  living  of  Hendred,  near  Wantage.  With  this  gentleman,  who 
was  the  second  son  of  Dr.  William  Talbot,  successively  bishop  of 
Oxford,  Salisbury,  and  Durham,  Mr.  Butler  formed  an  intimate 
friendship  at  Oriel  college;  which  friendship  laid  the  foundation  of 
all  his  subsequent  preferments,  and  procured  for  him  a  very  honor- 
able situation  when  he  was  only  twenty-six  years  of  age.  For  it  was 
in  1718,  that,  at  the  recommendation  of  Mr.  Talbot,  in  conjunction 
with  that  of  Dr.  Clarke,  he  was  appointed  by  Sir  Joseph  Jekyll  to  be 
preacher  at  the  Rolls.  This  was  three  years  before  he  had  taken  any 
degree  at  the  university,  where  he  did  not  go  out  bachelor-of-law  till 
the  10th  June,  1721,  which,  however,  was  as  soon  as  that  degree 
could  suitably  be  conferred  upon  him.  Mr.  Butler  continued  at  the 
Rolls  till  1726;  in  the  beginning  of  which  year  he  published,  in  one 
volume  octavo,  "  Fifteen  Sermons  preached  at  that  Chapel."  In  the 
meanwhile,  by  the  patronage  of  Dr.  Talbot,  bishop  of  Durham,  to 
"whose  notice  he  had  been  recommended  (together  with  Mr.  Benson 
and  Mr.  Seeker)  by  Mr.  Edward  Talbot,  on  his  death-bed,  our  author 
had  been  presented  first  to  the  rectory  of  Haughton,  near  Darlington, 
and  afterwards  to  that  of  Stanhope,  in  the  same  diecese.  The  benefice 
of  Haughton  was  given  to  him  in  1722,  and  that  of  Stanhope  in  1725. 
At  Haughton,  there  was  a  necessity  for  rebuilding  a  great  part  of  the 
|>arsonage-house,  and  Mr.  Butler  had  neither  money  nor  talents  for 
that  work.  Mr.  Seeker,  therefore,  who  had  always  the  interest  of 
his  friends  at  heart,  and  acquired  a  very  considerable  influence  with 
Bishop  Talbot,  persuaded  that  prelate  to  give  Mr.  Butler,  in  exchange 
for  Haughton,  the  rectory  Qt  Stanhope,  which  was  not  only  free  from 
any  such  incumbrance,  but  was  likewise  of  much  superior  value,  being 
indeed  one  of  the  richest  parsonages  in  England.  Whilst  our  author 
continued  preacher  at  the  Rolls-chapel,  he  divided  his  time  between 
his  duty  in  tpwn  and  country;  but  when  he  quitted  the  Rolls,  he  re- 
sided, during  seven  years,  wholly  at  Stanhope,  in  the  conscientious 
discharge  of  every  obligation  appertaining  to  a  good  parish  priest. 
This  retirement,  however,  was  too  solitary  for  his  disposition,  which 
had  in  it  a  natural  cast  of  gloominess.  And  though  his  recluse  hours 
were  by  no  means  lost,  either  to  private  improvement  or  public  utility^ 
jct  he  felt  at  times,  very  painfully,  the  waot  of  that  select  society 


DR.  BUTLER.  5  , 

of  friends  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed,  and  which  could  instpire 
him  with  the  greatest  cheerfulness.  Mr.  Seeker,  therefore,  who  knew 
this,  was  extremely  anxious  to  draw  him  out  into  a  more  active  and 
conspicuous  scene,  and  omitted  no  opportunity  of  expressing  this 
desire  to  such  as  he  <!hought  capable  of  promoting  it.  Having  himself 
been  appointed  king's  chaplain  in  1732  he  took  occasion,  in  a  con- 
versation which  he  had  the  honor  of  holding  with  queen  Caroline,  to 
mention  to  her  his  friend  Mr.  Butler.  The  queen  said  she  thought 
he  had  been  dead.  Mr.  Seeker  assured  her  he  was  not.  Yet,  her 
majesty  afterwards  asked  Archbishop  Blackburn  if  he  was  not  dead; 
his  answer  was,  "No,  madam;  but  he  is  buried."  Mr.  Seeker  con- 
tinuing his  purpose  of  endeavoring  to  bring  his  friend  out  of  his  re- 
tirement, found  means,  upon  Mr.  Charles  Talbot's  being  made  lord- 
chancellor,  to  have  Mr.  Butler  recommended  to  him  for  his  chaplain. 
His  lordship  accepted,  and  sent  for  him;  and  this  promotion  calling 
him  to  town,  he  took  Oxford  in  his  way,  and  was  admitted  there  to  . 
the  degree  of  doctor-of-law,  on  the  8th  December,  1733.  The  lord - 
chancellor,  who  gave  him  also  a  prebend  in  the  church  of  Rochester, 
had  consented  that  he  should  reside  at  his  parish  of  Stanhope  one 
half  of  the  year. 

Dr.  Butler  being  thus  brought  back  into  the  world,  his  merit  and 
his  talents  soon  introduced  him  to  particular  notice,  and  paved  the 
way  for  his  rising  to  those  high  dignities  which  he  afterwards  enjoyed. 
In  1736,  he  was  appointed  clerk-of-the-closet  to  queen  Caroline;  and, 
in  the  same  year,  he  presented  to  her  majesty  a  copy  of  his  excellent 
treatise,  entitled,  "  The  Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed, 
to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature."  His  attendance  upon 
his  royal  mistress,  by  her  especial  command,  was  from  seven  to  nine 
in  the  evening  every  day:  and  though  this  particular  relation  to  that 
excellent  and  learned  queen  was  soon  determined  by  her  death  in 
1737,  yet  he  had  been  so  effectually  recommended  by  her,  as  well  as 
by  the  late  lord-chancellor  Talbot,  to  his  majesty's  favor,  that,  in  the 
next  year,  he  was  raised  to  the  highest  order  of  the  church,  by  a  nom- 
ination to  the  bishopric  of  Bristol;  to  which  see  he  was  consecrated 
on  the  third  of  December,  1738.  King  George  II.  not  being  satisfied 
with  this  proof  of  his  regard  to  Dr.  Butler,  promoted  him,  in  1740, 
to  the  (Jeanry  of  St.  Paul's,  London;  into  which  he  was  installed  on 
the  24th  of  May  in  that  year.  Finding  the  demands  of  this  dignity 
to  be  incompatible  with  his  parish-duty  at  Stanhope,  he  immediately 
resigned  that  rich  benefice.  Besides  our  prelate's  unremitted  atten- 
tion to  his  peculiar  obligations,  he  was  called  upon  to  preach  several 
discourses  on  public  occasions,  which  were  afterwards  separately 
printed,  and  have  since  been  annexed  to  the  latter  editions  of  the 
Sermons  at  the  Rolls-chapel. 

In  1746,  upon  the  death  of  Dr.  Egerton,  bishop  of  Hereford,  Dr. 
Butler  was  made  clerk-of-the-closet  to  the  king;  and  on  the  16th 
October,  1750,  he  received  another  distinguished  mark  of  his  majes- 
ty's favor,  by  being  translated  to  the  see  of  Durham.  This  was  on 
the  16th  of  October;  in  that  year,  upon  the  decease  of  Dr.  Edward 
Chandler,  our  prelate,  being  thus  appointed  to  preside  over  a  diocese 
with  which  he  had  long  been  connected, delivered  his  first,and  indeed 
his  last  charge  to  his  clergy,  at  hi"*  primary  visitation  in  1751.    The 


275006 


6  THE  LIFE  OF 

principal  object  of  it  was,  "  External  Religion."  The  bishop  having 
observed,  with  deep  concern,  the  great  and  growing  neglect  of"  serious 
piety  in  the  kingdom,  insisted  strongly  on  the  usefulness  of  outward 
forms  and  institutions,  in  fixing  and  preserving  a  sense  of  devotion 
and  duty  in  the  minds  of  men.  In  doing  this,  h«  was  thought  by  sev- 
eral per-ions  to  speak  too  favorably  of  Pagan  and  Popish  ceremonies, 
and  to  countenance,  in  a  certain  degree,  the  cause  of  superstition. 
Under  that  apprehension,  an  able  and  spirited  writer,  who  was  under- 
stood to  be  a  clergyman  of  the  cliurch  of  England,  published  in  1752, 
a  pamphlet,  entitled,  "  A  serious  Enquiry  into  the  Use  and  Import- 
ance of  External  Religion:  occasioned  by  some  passages  in  the  Right 
Rev.  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Durham's  Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  that  Dio- 
cese;— Humbly  addressed  to  his  Lordship."  Many  persons,  however, 
and  we  believe  the  greater  part  of  tiie  ciergy  of  the  diocese,  did  not 
think  our  prelate's  charge  so  exceptionable  as"^it  appeared  to  this 
author.  The  charge,  being  printed  at  Durham,  and  having  never  been 
annexed  to  any  of  Dr.  Butler's  other  works,  is  now  become  extremely 
scarce;  and  it  is  observable,  that  it  is  the  only  one  of  his  publications 
which  ever  produced  him  a  direct  literary  antagenist. 

By  this  promotion,  our  worthy  bishop  was  furnished  with  ample 
means  of  exerting  the  virtue  of  charity;  a  virtue  which  eminently 
abounded  in  him,  and  the  exercise  of  which  was  his  highest  delight. 
But  this  gratification  he  did  not  long  enjoy.  He  had  been  but  a  short 
time  seated  in  his  new  bishopric,  when  his  health  began  visibly  to 
decline;  and  having  been  complimented,  during  his  indisposition,  upon 
account  of  his  great  resignation  to  the  Divine  will,  he  is  said  to  have 
expressed  some  regret,  that  he  should  be  taken  from  the  present  world 
so  soon  after  he  had  been  rendered  capable  of  becoming  much  more 
useful  in  it.  In  his  last  illness,  he  was  carried  to  Bristol,  to  try  the 
waters  of  that  place;  but  these  proving  ineffectual,  he  removed  to 
Bath,  where,  being  past  recovery,  he  died  on  the  l6th  of  June,  1752. 
His  corpse  was  conveyed  to  Bristol,  and  interred  in  the  cathedral 
there,  where  a  monument,  with  an  inscription,  is  erected  to  his 
memory. 

On  the  greatness  of  Bishop  Butler's  character  we  need  not  enlarge; 
for,  his  profound  knowledge,  and  the  prodigious  strength  of  his  mind, 
are  amply  displayed  in  his  incomparable  writings.  His  piety  was  of 
the  most  serious  and  fervent,  and,  perliaps,  somewhat  of  the  ascetic 
kind.  His  benevolence  was  warm,  generous,  and  diffusive.  Whilst 
he  was  bishop  of  Bristol,  he  expended,  in  repairing  and  improving  the 
episcopal  palace,  four  thousand  pounds,  which  is  said  to  have  been 
more  than  the  whole  revenues  of  the  bishopric  amounted  to,  during 
his  continuance  in  that  see.  Besides  his  private  benefactions,  he  was 
a  contributor  to  the  infirmary  at  Bristol,  and  a  subscriber  to  three 
of  the  hospitals  at  London.  He  was  likewise  a  principal  promoter, 
though  not  the  first  founder,  of  the  infirmary  at  Newcastle,  in  North- 
umberland, in  supporting  the  hospitality  and  dignity  of  the  rich 
and  powerful  diocese  of  Durham,  he  was  desirous  of  imitating  the 
spirit  of  his  patron,  Bishop  Talbot.  In  this  spirit,  he  set  apart  three 
days  fe\ery  week*  for  t'ne  reception  and  entertainment  of  the  principal 
gentry  of  the  country.  Nor  were  even  the  clergy  who  had  the  poor- 
est benefices,  neglected  by  him.     He  not  only  occasionally  invited 


DR.  BUTLER.  7 

them  to  dine  with  him,  but  condescended  to  visit  them  at  their  res- 
pective parishes.  By  his  will  he  left  five  hundred  pounds  to  the  soci- 
ety for  propagating  the  gospel  in  foreign  parts,  and  some  legacies  to 
liis  friends  and  domestics.  His  executor  and  residuary  legatee  was 
his  chaplain,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Nathaniel  Foster,  a  divine  of  distinguished 
literature.  Bishop  Butler  was  never  married.  Soon  after  his  decease, 
the  following  lines,  by  way  of  epitaph,  were  written  concerning  him; 
and  were  printed  first, if  we  recollect  aright,  in  the  London  Magazine. 

Beneath  this  raarWe  Butler  lies  entombed. 

Who,  witli  a  soul  inflamed  by  love  divine. 
His  life  in  presence  of  his  God  consumed. 

Like  the  bright  lamps  before  the  holy  shrine. 
His  aspect  pleasing,  mind  with  learning  fraught. 

His  eloquence  was  like  a  chain  of  gold. 

That  the  wild  passions  of  mankind  controlled; 
Merit,  wherever  to  be  found,  he  sought. 
Desire  of  transient  i-iches  he  had  none; 

These  he,  with  bounteous  hand,  did  well  dispense; 

Bent  to  fulfil  the  ends  of  Providence; 
His  heart  still  fixed  on  an  immortal  ci-own. 

His  iieait  a  mirror  was,  of  purest  kind, 

Wiiere  the  bright  iinage  of  his  Maker  shined; 
Reflecting  faithful  to  the  throne  above. 
The  irrasJiaiit  glories  of  the  Mvstic  Dove. 


TO  THE  REVEREND 

DH.  THOMAS  BALGUY, 

ARCHDEACON  AND  PItEBENDARY  OF  WINCHESTER,  &o. 

Dear  Sir, 

I  TRUST  you  will  excuse  the  liberty  I  have  taken  of  prefixing 
your  name  to  the  following  sheets;  the  latter  part  of  which,  I  am 
confident,  will  not  be  thought  undeserving  of  your  approbation;  and 
of  the  former  part  you  will  commend  the  intention  at  least,  if  not  the 
execution.  In  vindicating  the  character  of  Bishop  Butler  from  the 
aspersions  thrown  upon  it  since  his  death,  I  have  but  discharged  a 
common  duty  of  humanity,  which  survivors  owe  to  those  who  have 
deserved  well  of  mankind  by  their  lives  or  writings,  when  they  are 

East  the  power  of  appearing  in  their  own  defence.  And  if  what  I 
ave  added,  by  way  of  opening  the  general  design  of  the  works  of 
this  great  Prelate,  be  of  use  in  exciting  the  younger  class  of  students 
in  our  universities  to  read,  and  so  to  read  as  to  understand,  the  two  vol- 
umes prepared  and  published  by  the  Author  himself;  I  flatter  myself  I 
shall  have  done  no  inconsiderable  service  to  morality  and  religion. 
Your  time  and  studies  have  been  long  successfully  devoted  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  same  great  cause;  and  in  what  you  have  lately  given  to  the 
world,  both  as  an  author  and  an  editor,  you  have  largely  contributed 
to  the  defence  of  our  common  Christianity,  and  of  what  was  esteemed 
one,  who  was  perfectly  competent  to  judge,  its  best  establishment,  by 
the  Church  of  England.  In  the  present  publication  I  consider  myself 
as  a  fellow  laborer  with  you  in  the  same  design,  and  tracing  the  path 
you  have  trod  before,  but  at  great  distance,  and  with  unequal  paces. 
When,  by  his  Majesty's  goodness,  I  was  raised  to  that  station  of 
eminence  in  the  church,  to  which  you  had  been  first  named,  and  which, 
on  account  of  the  infirmity  of  your  health,  you  had  desired  to  decline; 
it  was  honor  enough  for  me  on  such  an  occasion  to  have  been  thought 
of  next  to  you;  And  I  know  of  no  better  rule  by  which  to  govern  my 
conduct,  so  as  not  to  discredit  the  royal  hand  which  conferred  on  me 
so  signal  and  unmerited  a  favor,  than  in  cases  of  difliculty  to  put  the 
question  to  myself,  how  you  would  probably  have  acted  in  the  same 
situation.  You  see.  Sir,  I  still  look  up  to  you,  as  I  have  been  wont, 
both  as  my  superior  and  my  example.  That  I  may  long  reap  the 
benefit  of  your  advice  and  friendship;  and  that  such  a  measure  of 
health  and  strength  may  be  continued  to  you,  as  may  enable  you  to 
pass  the  evening  of  your  days  with  comfort,  and  enjoy  the  blessings 
of  the  life  jou  love,  is  the  cordial  wish  of, 
Dear  Sir, 

Your  very  affectionate 

and  faithful  Servant, 

S.  GLOITCESTER. 
Dartmouth-Street..  Westminster,  12th  Mar,  178(5 


PREFACE 

BY  THE  EDITOR, 


'•■  AVhen  t  consid*  how  light  a  matter  very  often  subjects  the  best  established  charac 
"  ters  to  tlie  suspicions  of  posterity,  posterity  often  as  malignant  to  virtue  as  the  age 
"  that  saw  it  was  envious  of  its  glory;  and  how  i-eady  a  remote  age  is  to  catch  at  a  low 
"  revived  slander,  which  the  times  that  brought  it  foitli  saw  despised  and  forgotten 
"  almos!  in  its  birth;  I  cannot  but  think  it  a  matter  that  deserves  attention." — Letter 
to  the  Editor  of  the  Letters  on  the  Spirit  of  Patriotism,  &c.  by  Bishop  WAnBUBTOK. 
See  his  Works,  vol.  vii.  p.  547, 

THE  charge  to  the  Clergy  of  the  Diocese  of  Durham,  which  is  sub- 
joined to  the  present  volume,  was  printed  and  published  in  the  year 
1751,  by  the  learned  Prelate,  whose  name  it  bears;  and,  together  with 
the  Sermons  and  Analogy  of  the  same  writer,  both  too  well  known 
to  need  a  more  particular  description,  completes  the  collection  of 
his  works.  It  has  long  been  considered  as  a  matter  of  curiosity, 
on  account  of  its  scarceness;  and  it  is  equally  curious  on  other 
accounts,  its  subject,  and  the  calumny  to  which  it  gave  occasion, 
of  representing  the  Author  as  addicted  to  superstition,  as  inclined 
to  popery,  and  as  dying  in  the  communion  of  the  church  of  Rome. 
The  improved  edition  of  Biographia  Britannica,  now  publishing 
under  the  care  of  Dr.  Kippis,  having  unavoidably  brought  this  cal- 
umny again  into  notice;  it  may  not  be  unseasonable  to  offer  a  few 
reflections  in  this  place,  by  way  of  obviating  any  impressions  that 
may  hence  arise,  to  the  disadvantage  of  so  great  a  character  as  that 
of  the  late  Bishop  Butler;  referring  those  who  desire  a  more  partic- 
ular account  of  his  life,  to  the  third  volume  of  the  same  entertaining 
work,  printed  in  1784.  Art.  Butler  [Joseph.) 

I.  The  principal  design  of  the  Bishop,  in  his  Charge,  is  to  exhort 
his  Clergy  to  "  to  do  their  part  towards  reviving  a  practical  sense  of 
religion  amongst  the  people  committed  to  their  care;"  and,  as  one 
way  of  effecting  this,  to  "  instruct  them  in  the  importance  of  exter- 
nal  religion,^^  or  the  usefulness  of  outward  observances  in  promoting 
inward  piety.  Now,  from  the  compound  nature  of  man,  consisting 
of  two  parts,  the  body  and  the  mind,  together  with  the  influence 
which  these  are  found  to  have  on  one  another,  it  follows,  that  the-ce- 
iigious  regards  of  such  a  creature  ought  to  be  so  framed,  as  to  beia 
some  way  properly  accommodated  to  botfi.  A  religion  which  is  pur.ely 
spiritual,  stripped  of  every  thing  that  may  affect  the  senses,  aod  con- 
sidered only  as  a  divine  philosophy  of  the  mind,  if  it  do  not  mount  up 
into  enthusiasm,  as  has  frequently  been  the  case,  oft^n  sinks,  after  & 
B 


10  PREFACE 

few  short  fervors,  into  indiffererce:  an  abstracted  invisible  object, 
like  that  which  naturai  religion  oiTers,  ceases  to  move  or  interest  the 
heart;  aur'  something  further  is  wanting  to  bring  it  nearer,  and  ren- 
der it  more  present  to  our  view,  than  merely  an  intellectual  contem- 
plation. On  the  other  hand  when,  in  girder  to  remedy  this  incon- 
venience, recourse  is  had  to  instituted  forms  and  ritual  injunctions; 
there  is  always  danger  lest  men  be  tempted  to  rest  entirely  on  these, 
and  persuade  ihemselves  that  a  painful  attention  to  such  observances 
will  attone  for  the  \/ant  of  genuine  piety  and  virtue.  Yet  surely 
there  is  a  way  of  steering  safely  between  these  two  extreioes;  of  so 
consulting  both  the  parts  of  our  constitution,  that  the  body  and  the 
mind  may  concur  in  rendering  our  religious  services  acceptable  to 
God,  and  at  the  same  time  useful  to  ourselves.  And  what  way  cau 
this  be.  but  precisely  that  which  is  recommended  in  the  charge;  such 
a  cultivation  of  outward  as  well  as  inward  religion,  that  from  both 
may  result,  what  is  the  point  chiefty  to  be  labored  after,  and  at  all 
events  to  be  secured,  a  correspondent  temper  and  behavior;  or,  in 
other  words,  such  an  application  of  the  forms  of  godliness  as  my  be 
subservient  in  promoting  the  power  and  spirit  of  it.''  No  man  who 
believes  the  scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  and  under- 
stands what  he  believes,  but  must  know,  that  external  religion  is  as 
much  enjoined,  and  constitutes  as  real  a  part  of  revelation,  as  that 
which  is  internal.  The  many  ceremonies  in  use  among  the  Jfews,  in 
consequence  of  a  divine  command;  the  baptism  of  water,  as  an  em- 
blem of  moral  purity;  the  eating  and  drinking  of  bread  and  wine,  as 
symbols  and  representations  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  required 
of  Christians,  are  proofs  of  this.  On  comparing  these  two  parts  of 
religiori  together,  one,  it  is  immediately  seen,  is  of  much  greater  im- 
pon.ance  than  the  other;  and.  whenever  they  happen  to  interfere,  is 
always  to  be  preferred:  but  does  it  follow  from  hence,  that  therefore 
that  other  is  of  little  or  no  importance,  and,  in-  cases  whei-e  there  is 
no  competition,  may  entirely  be  neglected?  Or  rather  is  not  the  legit- 
imate conclusion  directly  the  reverse,  that  nothing  is  to  be  looked 
upon  as  of  little  importance,  which  is  of  any  use  at  all  in  preserving 
npon  our  minds  a  sense  of  the  Divine  Authority,  which  recals  to  our 
remembrance  the  obligations  we  are  under,  and  helps  to  keep  us,  as 
the  scripture  expresses  it,  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long?* 
If,  to  adopt  tlie  instance  mentioned  in  the  charge,  the  sight  of  a 
Church  should  remind  a  man  of  some  sentiment  of  piety;  if,  from 
the  view  of  a  material  building  dedicated  to  the  service  of  God,  he 
should  be  led  to  regard  himself,  his  own  body,  as  a  living  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghostyf  and  therefore  no  more  than  the  other  to  be  profaned 
or  desecrated  by  any  thing  that  defileth  or  is  impure;  could  it  be 
truly  said  of  such  a  one  tliat  he  was  superstitious,  or  mistook  the 
means  of  religion  for  the  end?  If,  to  use  another,  and  what  has  been 
thought  a  more  obnoxious  instance,  taken  from  the  bishop's  practice, 
a  Cross,  erected  in  a  place  of  public  worship,^  should  cause  us  to 
reflect  on  him  who  died  on  across  for  our  salvation,  and  on  the  ne- 
cessity of  our  oivn  dying  to  sin.§  and  of  crucifying  the  flesh  with  its 

•  Ptov.  xxili,  17.       1 1  Cor.  vi.  19.       ^  See  note  [A]  at  the  end  of  this  Preface. 
§  Roux,  vi,  11. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  11 

affections  and  lusts;*  would  any  worse  consequences  follow  from 
such  sentiments  so  excited,  than  if  the  same  sentiments  had  been 
excited  by  the  view  of  a  picture,  of  the  crucifixion  suppose,  such  as 
is  commonly  placed,  and  with  this  very  design,  in  foreign  churches, 
and  indeed  in  many  of  our  own?  Both  the  instances  here  adduced, 
it  is  very  possible,  may  be  far  from  being  approved,  even  by  those 
who  are  under  the  most  sincere  convictions  of  the  importance  of  true 
religion;  and  it  is  easy  to  conceive  how  open  to  scotn  and  censure 
they  must  be  from  others,  who  think  they  have  a  talent  for  ridicule, 
and  have  accustomed  themselves  to  regard  all  pretensions  to  piety 
as  hypocritical  or  superstitious.  But  wisdom  is  justified  of  her 
£hildren.^  Religion  is  what  it  is,  whether  men  will  hear,  or  wheth- 
er they  will  forbear;\  and  whatever  in  the  smallest  degree  pro- 
motes its  interests,  and  assists  us  in  performirg  its  command^-, 
whether  that  assistance  be  derived  from  the  medium  of  the  body  or 
the  mind,  ought  to  be  esteemed  of  great  weight,  and  deserving  of 
our  most  serions  attention. 

However,  be  the  danger  of  superstition  what  it  may,  no  one  was 
more  sensible  of  that  danger,  or  more  earnest  in  maintaining  that 
external  acts  of  themselves  are  nothing,  and  that  moral  holiness,  a» 
distinguished  from  bodily  observances  of  every  kind,  is  that  which 
constitutes  the  essence  of  religion,  than  Bishop  Butler.  Not  only 
the  charge  itself,  the  whole  intention  of  which  is  plainly  nothing 
more  than  to  enforce  the  necessity  of  practical  religion,  tiie  reality 
as  well  as  form,  is  a  tiemonstration  of  this;  but  many  passages  be- 
sides, to  the  same  purpose,  selected  from  his  other  writings.  Take 
the  two  following  as  specimens.  In  his  Analogy  he  observes  thus: 
"  Though  mankind  have  in  all  ages,  been  greatly  prone  to  place  their 
religion  in  peculiar  positive  rites, by  way  of  equivalent  for  obedience 
to  moral  precepts;  yet,  without  making  any  comparison  at  all  be- 
tween them,  the  nature  of  the  thing  abundantly  sliews  all  notions  of 
that  kind  to  be  utterly  subversive  of  true  religion:  as  they  are, 
moreover,  contrary  to  the  whole  general  tenor  of  scripture;  and 
likewise  to  the  most  express  particular  declarations  of  it,  that  noth- 
ing can  render  us  acceptable  of  God,  without  moral  virtue,"§  And 
to  the  same  purpose  in  his  Sermon,  preached  before  the  Society  for 
the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel,  in  February,  1738-9.  "Indeed 
amongst  creatures  naturally  formed  for  religion,  yet  so  much  under 
the  power  of  imagination  as  men  are,  superstition  is  an  evil,  which 
can  never  be  out  of  sight.  But  even  against  this,  true  religion  is  a 
great  security ,'and  the  only  one.  True  religion  takes  up  tliat  place  in 
the  mind  which  superstition  would  usurp,  and  so  leaves  little  room  for 
it;  and  likewise  lays  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  oppose  it. ' 
On  the  contrary,  the  danger  of  superstition  cannot  hut  be  increased 
by  the  prevalence  of  irreligion;  and  by  its  general  prevalence,  the 
evil  will  be  unavoidable.  For  the  common  people*,  wanting  a  reli- 
gion, will  of  course  take  up  with  almost  any  superstition  which  is 
thrown  in  their  way;  and,  in  process  of  time,  amidst  the  infinite 
vicissitudes  of  the  political  world,  the  leaders  of  parties  will  cer- 
tainly be  able  to  serve  themselves  of  that^  superstition,  whatever 

»  Gi*I.  V.  24,       t  Matth.  xi.  19,       +  Ezek.  ii.  5.        §  Analogy  Part  ii.  Chap.  1, 


12  PREFACE 

it  be,  which  is  getting  groundj  and  will  not  fail  to  carry  it  to  the 
Vtmost  length  their  occasions  require.  The  general  nature  of  the 
thing  shews  this;  and  history  and  fact  confirm  it.  It  is  therefore 
wonderful,  those  people  who  seem  to  think  there  is  but  one  evil  in 
life,  that  of  superstition,  should  not  see  that  atheism  and  profaneness 
must  be  the  introduction  of  it,"* 

He  who  can  think  and  write  in  such  a  manner,  can  never  be  said 
to  mistake  the  nature  of  real  religion:  and  he,  who,  after  such  proofs 
to  the  contrary,  can  persist  in  asserting  of  so  discreet  and  learned  a 
person,  that  he  was  addicted  to  superstition,  must  himself  be  much  a 
stranger  both  to  truth  and  charity. 

And  here  it  may  be  worth  our  while  to  observe,  that  the  same  ex- 
<fellent  prelate,  who  by  one  set  of  men  was  suspected  of  superstition, 
on  account  of  his  charge,  has  by  another  been  represented  as  leaning 
to  the  opposite  extreme  of  enthusiasm,  on  account  of  his  two  discour- 
ses On  the  love  of  God.  But  both  opinions  are  equally  without 
foundation.  He  was  neither  superstitious  nor  an  enthusiast.  His 
mind  was  much  too  strong,  anil  his  habits  of  thinking  and  reason- 
ing much  too  strict  and  severe,  to  sutler  him  to  descend  to  the  weak- 
nesses of  either  character.  His  piety  was  at  once  fervent  and  ra- 
tional. When,  impressed  with  a  generous  concern  for  the  declining 
cause  of  religion,  he  labored  to  revive  its  dying  interests,  nothing  he 
judged  would  be  more  effectual  to  that  end,  among  creatures  so  much 
engaged  with  bodily  things,  and  so  apt  to  be  affected  with  whatever 
strongly  solicits  the  senses  as  men  are,  than  a  religion  of  such  a 
.frame  as  should  in  its  exercise  require  the  joint  exertions  of  the  body 
and  the  mind.  On  the  other  hand,  when  penetrated  with  the  dignity 
^nd  importance  of  the  jir-st  and  great  co7nmandment,-\  Love  to  God, 
Tie  set  himself  to  inquire,  what  those  movements  of  the  heart  are, 
which'are  due  to  him,  the  Author  and  Cause  of  e-i  things;  he  found, 
in  the  coolest  way  of  consideration,  that  God  is  the  natural  object  of 
the  same  affections  of  gratitude,  reverence,  fear-,  desire  of  approba- 
tion., trust,  and  dependence;  the  same  affections  in  kind,  though 
doubtless  in  a  very  disproportionate  degree,  which  any  one  would 
feel  from  contemplating  a  perfect  character  in  a  creature,  in  which 
goodness  with  wisdom  and  power  are  supposed  to  be  the  predomi- 
nant qualities,  with  the  further  circumstance  that  tliis  creature  was 
also  his  governor  and  friend.  This  subject  is  manifestly  a  real  one; 
there  is  nothing  in  it  fanciful  or  unreasonable.  This  way  of  being 
affected  towards  God  is  piety,  in  the  strictest  sense;  ibis  is  religion, 
considered  as  a  habit  of  mind:  a  religion,  suited  to  the  nature  and 
condition  of  man  \ 

II.  Prom  superstition  to  popery  the  transition  is  easy.  No  won- 
der then,  that,  in  the  progress  of  detraction,  the  simple  imputation 
of  the  former  of  these,  with  which  the  attack  on  the  character  of 
our  author  was  opened,  should  be  followed  by  the  more  aggravated 
imputation  of  the  latter.  Nothing,  I  think,  can  fairly  be  gathered 
in  support  of  such  a  suggestion  from  the  charge,  in  which  popery  is 
barely  mentioned,  and  occasionally  only,  and  in  a  sentence  or  two; 

»  Serm.  XVI.  p,  .339,  HO,  Ed.  Wi^  1749,  t  Matth  xxii,  38.  ^  See  note  [B], 
at  the  end  of  this  Pre'friPe. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  IS 

yet  even  there,  it  should  be  remarked,  the  bishop  takes  care  to  de- 
scribe the  peculiar  observances  required  by  it,  ''some  as  in  themselves 
wrong  and  superstitious,  and  others  of  them  as  being  made  subser- 
vient to  the  purposes  of  superstition."  With  respect  to  his  other 
writings,  any  one  at  all  conversant  with  them  needs  not  to  be  told, 
that  the  matters  treated  of  both  in  his  Sermons  and  his  Analogy  did, 
none  of  them,  directly  lead  him  to  consider,  and  much  less  to  com- 
bat, the  opinions,  whether  relating  to  fai'h  or  worship,  which  are  pe- 
culiar to  the  church  «if  Rome:  it  mighi  tr  erefore  have  happened,  yet 
without  any  just  conclusion  arising  from  thence,  of  being  himself  in- 
clined to  favor  those  opinions,  that  he  had  never  mentioned,  so  much 
as  incidentally,  the  subject  of  popery  at  all  But  fortunately  for  the 
reputation  of  the  bishop,  and  to  the  eternal  disgrace  of  his  calum- 
niators, even  this  poor  resource  is  wanting  to  support  their  malevo^ 
lence.  In  his  sermon  at  St.  Bride's,  before  the  Lord  Mayor,  in. 
1740,  after  having  said  that  '-oor  laws  and  whole  constitution  go 
more  upon  supposition  of  an  equality  amongst  mankind,  than  the 
constitution  and  laws  of  other  countries;''  he  goes  on  to  observe, 
that  "this  plainly  requires,  that  more  particular  regard  should  be  had 
to  the  education  of  the  lower  people  here,  than  in  places  where  they 
are  born  slaves  of  power,  and  to  be  made  slaves  of  superstition:"* 
meaning  evidently  in  this  place  by  the  general  term  superstition, 
the  particular  errors  of  the  Romanists  This  is  something;  but  we 
have  a  still  plainer  indication  what  his  sentiments  concerning  po- 
pery really  were,  from  another  of  his  Additional  Sermons,  I  mean 
that  before  the  House  of  Lords,  on  June  the  11th,  1747,  the  anniver- 
sary of  his  late  Majesty's  accession. '  The  passage  alluded  to  is  as 
follows,  and  my  readers  will  not  be  displeased  that  I  give  it  them  at 
length.  "The  value  of  our  religious  establishment  ought  to  be  very 
much  heightened  in  our  esteem,  by  considering  what  it  is  a  security 
from  ;  I  mean  that  great  corruption  of  Christianity,  popery,  which 
is  ever  hard  at  work  to  bring  us  again  under  its  yoke.  Whoever 
will  consider  the  popish  claims  to  the  disposal  of  the  whole  earth,  as 
of  divine  right,  to  diifpense  with  the  most  sacred  engagements,  the 
claims  to  supreme  absolute  authority  in  religion;  in  short,  the  gene- 
ral claims  which  the  Canonists  express  by  the  words,  pleniUide  of* 
power — whoever,  I  say,  will  consider  popery  as  it  is  professed  at 
Rome,  may  see,  that  it  is  manifest,  open  usurpation  of  all  human  and 
divine  authority.  But  even  in  those  Roman-catholic  countries  where 
these  monstrous  claims  are  not  admitted;,and  the  civil  power,  does, 
in  many  respects,  restrain  the  papal;  yet  persecution  is  professed,  as 
it  is  absolutely  enjoined  by  what  is  acknowledged  to  be  their  highest 
authority,  a  general  council,  so  called,  with  the  pope  at  the  head  of 
it;  and  is  practised  in  all  of  them,  I  think,  without  exception,  where 
it  can  be  done  safely.  Thus  they  go  on  to  substitute  force  instead 
of  argument,  and  external  profession  made  by  force  instead  of  rea- 
sonable conviction.  And  thus  corruptions  of  the  grossest  sort  have 
been  in  vogue,  for  many  generations,  in  many  parts  of  Christendom; 
and  are  so  still,  even  where  popery  obtains  in  its  least  absurd  form: 
and  their  antiquity  and  wide  extent  are  insisted  upon  as  proofs  of 
^heir  truth;  a  iiind  of  proof  which  at  best  can  only  be  presumptive, 

*  Serm,  XVIL  p,  %7. 


14  PREFACE 

but  which  i(|ses  all  its  little  weight,  in  proportion  as  the  long  and 
iarge  prevalence  of  such  corruptions  have  been  obtained  by  force."* 
In  another  port  of  the  same  sermon,  wher&  he  is  again  speaking  of 
our  ecclesiastical  constitution,  he  reminds  his  audience  that  it  is  to 
be  valued,  ^  not  because  it  leaves  us  at  liberty  to  have  as  little  reli- 
gion as  we  please,  without  being  accountable  to  human  judicatories; 
but  because  it  exhibits  to  our  viev/,  and  enforces  upon  our  conscien- 
ces, genuine  Christianity,  free  from  the  superstitions  with  which  it  is 
defiled  in  other  countries;"  which  superstions,  he  observes,  "natu- 
rally tend  to  abate  its*force."t  The  date  of  this  sermon  should  here 
be  attended  to.  It  was  preached  in  June  1747;  that  is,  four  years 
before  the  delivery  and  publication  of  the  charge,  which  was  in  the 
year  1751;  and  exactly  five  years  before  the  author  died,  which  was 
in  June,  1752.  We  have  then,  in  the  passages  now  laid  before  the 
reader,  a  clear  and  unequivocal  proof,  brought  down  to  within  a  few 
years  of  Bishop  Butler's  death,  that  popery  was  held  by  him  in  the 
utmost  abhorrence,  and  that  he  regarded  it  in  no  other  light  than  as 
th.t  great  corruption  of  Christianity,  and  a  manifest,  open  usurpa- 
Hon  of  all  human  and  divine  authority.  The  argument  is  decisive; 
nor  will  any  thing  be  of  force  to  invalidate  it,  unless  from  some  after- 
act  during  the  short  remainder  of  the  bishop's  life,  besides  that  of  de- 
livering and  printing  his  Charge,  (which,  after  what  I  have  said,  here, 
and  in  the  Notes  added  to  this  Preface  and  to  the  Charge,  I  must 
have  leave  to  consider  as  affording  no  evidence  at  all  of  his  inclina- 
tion to  papistical  doctrines  or  ceremonies)  the  contrary  shall  incon- 
trovertibly  appear. 

III.  One  such  after-act,  hbwever,  has  been  alleged,  which  would 
effectually  demolish  all  that  we  have  urged  in  behalf  of  our  Prelate, 
were  it  true,  as  is  pretended,  that  he  died  in  the  communion  of  the 
church  of  Rome.  Had  a  story  of  this  sort  been  invented  and  propa- 
gated by  Papists,  the  wonder  might  have  been  less  : 

Hoc  Ittiacus  velit,  &  majno  mercentur  Atridse. 

But  to  the  reproach  of  protestantism,  the  fabrication  of  this  calumny, 
for  such  we  shall  find  it,  originated  from  among  ourselves.  It  is  pretty 
remarkable,  that  a  circumstance  so  extraordinary  should  never  have 
been  divulged  till  the  year  1767,  fifteen  years  after  the  Bishop's  de- 
cease. At  that  time  Dr.  Thomas  Seckek  was  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury; who  of  all  others  was  the  most  likely  to  know  the  truth  or 
falshood  of  the  fact  asserted,  having  been  educated  with  our  au- 
thor in  his  early  youth,  and  having  lived  in  a  constant  habit  of  inti- 
macy with  him  to  the  very  time  of  his  death.  The  good  Archbish- 
op was  not  silent  on  this  occasion:  with  a  virtuous  indignation  he 
stood  forth  to  protect  the  posthumous  character  of  his  friend;  and  in 
a  public  newspaper,  under  the  signature  of  Jfisopseudes,  called  up- 
on his  accuser  to  support  what  he  had  advanced,  by  whatever  proofs 
he  could.  No  proof,  however,  nor  any  thing  like  a  proof,  appeared  in 
reply;  and  every  man  of  sense  and  candor  at  that  time  was  perfectly 
convinced  the  aijsertion  was  entirely  groundless!  As  a  further  con- 
firmation of  the  rectitude  of  this  judgment,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 

•Serm   XX,  i>,  U0—ii2.       f  P-  *^'^-       *  See  note  [C],  at  i^ie  end  of  UusPre- 
f»ce. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  15 

mention,  there  is  yet  in  existence  a  strong  presuviptive  argument  at 
least  in  its  favor,  drawn  from  the  testimony  of  those  who  attended 
our  autiior  in  the  sickness  of  which  he  died.  The  last  days  of  this 
excellent  Prelate  were  passed  at  Bath;  Dr.  Nathaitiel  Forster, 
his  chaplain,  being  continually  with  him;  and  for  one  (lay,  and  at  the 
very  end  of  his  illness,  Dr.  Martin  BE^^^oN  also,  thfe  then  Bishop 
of  Glougester,  who  shortened  his  own  life  in  his  pioas  haste  to  vis- 
it his  dying  friend.  Both  these  persons  constantly  vrote  letters  to 
Dr.  Secker,  then  Bishop  of  Oxford,  containing  accolints  of  Bishop 
Butler's  declining  health,  and  of  the  symptoms  and  progress  of  his 
disorder,  which,  as  was.  conjectured,  soon  terminated  in  his  death. 
These  letters,  which  are  still  preserved  in  the  Lamkth  library,*  I 
have  read;  and  not  the  slenderest  argument  can  be  collected  from 
them  in  justification  of  the  ridiculous  slander  we  are  h^re  considering. 
If  at  that  awful  season  the  Bishop  was  not  known  to  lave  expressed 
any  opinion,  tending  to  shew  his  dislike  to  popery;  neither  was  he 
known  to  have  said  any  thing  that  could  at  all  be  construed  in  appro- 
bation of  it:  and  the  natural  presumption  is,  that  whatever  senti- 
ments he  had  formerly  entertained  concerning  that  corrupt  system 
of  religion,  he  continued  to  entertain  them  to  the  la^t.  The  truth 
is,  that  neither  the  word  nor  the  idea  of  popery  seemi  once  to  have 
occurred  either  to  the  Bishop  himself,  or  to  those  wh»  watched  his 
parting  moments:  their  thoughts  were  otherwise  enga^d.  His  dis- 
order had  reduced  him  to  such  debility,  as  to  render  hiii  incapable  of 
speaking  much  or  long  on  any  subject;  the  few  bright  intervals  that 
occurred  were  passed  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  tranquaity  and  com- 
posure; and  in  tJiat  composure  he  expired.  Mark  th4  perfect  man, 
and  behold  the  upright;  for  the  end  of  that  man  is  pmce.-^ — Let  me 
die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  li\e  hisl^ 

Out  of  pure  respect  for  the  virtues  of  a  man  whom  Ihad  never  the 
happinessof  knowing,  or  even  of  seeing,  but  from  whkse  writings  I 
have  received  the  greatest  benefit  and  illumination,  antt  which  I  have 
reason  to  be  thankful  toProvidence  for  having  early  thrckn  in  my  way; 
I  have  adventured,  in  what  I  have  now  oftered  to  the  public,  to  step 
forth  in  his  defence,  and  to  vindicate  his  honest  fame  fiom  the  attacks 
of  those,who,  with  the  vain  hope  of  bringing  down  superior  characters 
to  theipown  level,  are  for  ever  at  work  in  detracting  torn  their  just 
praise.  For  the  literary  reputation  of  Bishop  Butlei%  it  stands  too 
high  in  the  opinion  of  the  world,  to  incur  the  danger  of  any  diminu- 
tion; but  this  in  truth  is  the  least  of  his  excellencies.  He  was  more 
than  a  good  writer,  he  was  a  good  man;  and,  what  i&an  addition 
even  to  this  eulogy,  he  was  a  sincere  Christian.  His  whole  study 
was  directed  to  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  sound  morality  and 
true  religion:  these  he  adorned  by  his  life,  and  has  recommended  to 
future  ages  in  his  writings;  in  which,  if  my  judgment  be  of  any  avail, 
he  has  done  essential  service  to  both;  as  much,  perhaps,  as  any  sin- 
gle person,  since  the  extraordinary  gifts  of  the  word  of  wisdom  and 
the  word  of  knowledge^  have  been  withdrawn. 

*  See  note  [D],  at  the  cud  of  this  Pt-eface.        tPs  xxxvii  ST.       tXumh.  xxH«. 
10.       §  I.  Cor  xii.  8,  ' 


16  PREFACE 

IN  what  follows,  I  propose  to  give  a  short  account  of  the  Bishop's 
Moral  and  Religious  Systems,  as  these  are  collected  from  his 
works. 

I.  His  way  of  treating  the  subject  of  morals  is  to  be  eathered 
from  the  volume  ot  his  Sermons,  and  particularly  from  the  three 
first,  and  from  the  preface  to  that  volume. 

"There  is, "as  our  author  with  singular  sagacity  has  observed,  "a 
much  more  exact  correspondence  between  the  natural  and  moral 
world,  than  w?  are  apt  to  take  notice  of."*  The  inward  frame  of 
roan  answers  to  his  outward  condition.  The  several  propensities, 
passions,  and  iftections,  implanted  in  our  hearts  by  the  Author  of  na- 
ture, are  in  a  peculiar  manner  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  life  in 
which  he  hath  placed  us.  This  general  observation,  properly  pur- 
sued, leads  to  several  important  conclusions.  The  original  internal 
constitution  ol  man,  compared  with  his  external  condition,  enables 
us  to  discern  what  course  of  action  and  behavior  that  constitution 
leads  to,  what  is  our  duty  respecting  that  condition,  and  furnishes 
us  besides  witi  the  most  powerful  arguments  to  the  practice  of  it. 

What  the  isward  frame  and  constitution  of  man  is,  is  a  question 
of  fact,  to  be  determined  as  other  facts  are,  from  experience,  from 
our  internal  feelings  and  external  senses,  and  from  the  testimony  of 
others.  Whether  human  nature,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  it 
is  placed,  mi^ht  not  have  been  ordered  otherwise,  is  foreign  to  our 
inquiry,  and  a  one  of  our  concern:  our  province  is.  taking  both  of 
these  as  thej  are,  and  viewing  the  connexion  between  them,  from 
that  connexion  to  discover,  if  we  can,  what  course  of  action  is  fitted 
to  that  naturi  and  those  circumstances.  From  contemplating  the 
bodily  senses,  and  the  organs  or  instruments  adapted  to  them,  we 
learn  that  the  eye  was  given  to  see  with,  the  ear  to  hear  with.  In 
like  manner,  rom  considering  our  inward  perceptions  and  the  final 
causes  of  then,  we  collect  that  the  feeling  of  shame  for  instance,  v/as 
given  to  prev<nt  the  doing  of  things  shameful;  compassion,  to  carry 
us  to  releive  others  in  distress;  anger,  to  resist  sudden  violence  offer- 
ed to  ourselves.  If,  continuing  our  inquiries  in  this  way,  it  should  at 
length  appear  that  the  whole  nature  of  man,  leads  him  to  and  is  fit- 
ted for  that  particular  course  of  behavior,  which  we  usually  distin- 
guish  by  the  tame  of  virtue;  we  are  authorized  to  conclude,  tjiat  vir- 
tue is  the  law  we  are  born  under,  that  it  was  so  intended  by  the  Au- 
thor of  our  being;  and  we  are  bound  by  the  most  intimate  of  all  ob- 
ligations, a  rtgard  to  our  own  highest  interest  and  happiness,  to  con- 
form to  it  in  all  situations  and  events. 

Human  nature  is  not  simple  and  uniform,  but  made  up  of  several 
parts;  and  we  can  have  no  just  idea  of  it  as  a  system  or  constitution, 
unless  we  take  into  our  view  the  respects  and  relations  •  which  these 
parts  have  to  each  other.  As  the  body  is  not  one  member,  but  many, 
so  our  inward  structure  consists  of  various  instincts,  appetites  and 
propensions.  Thus  far  there  is  no  difference  between  human  crea- 
tures and  brutes.  But  besides  these  common  passions  and  affec- 
tions, there  is  another  principle,  peculiar  to  mankind,  that  of  con- 
science, moral  sense,  reflection,  call  it  what  you  please,  by  which 
they  are  enabled  to  review  their  whole  conduct^,  t<»  approve  of  some 

•SerHhVI. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  1? 

actions  in  themselves,  and  to  disapprove  of  others.  That  this  prin- 
ciple will  of  course  have  some  influence  on  our  behavior,  at  least  at 
times,  will  hardly  be  disputed:  but  the  particular  influence  which  it 
ought  to  have,  the  precise  degree  of  power  in  the  regulating  of  our 
internal  frame  that  is  assigned  it  by  him  who  placed  it  there,  is  a 
point  of  the  utmost  consequence  in  itself,  and  on  the  determination 
of  which  the  very  hinge  of  our  Author's  moral  system  turns.  If  the 
faculty  here  spoken  of  be  indeed,  what  it  is  asserted  toba,  in  nature 
and  kind  superior  to  every  other  passion  and  affection,  if  it  be  giv- 
en, not  merely  that  it  may  exert  its  force  occasionally,  or  as  our 
present  humor  or  fancy  may  dispose  us,  but  that  it  may  at  all  times 
exercise  an  uncontrollable  authority  and  government  over  all  the 
restj  it  will  then  follow,  that  in  order  to  complete  the  idea  of  human 
nature,  as  a  system,  we  must  not  only  take  in  each  particular  bias, 
propension,  instinct,  which  are  seen  to  belong  to  it,  but  we  must  add, 
besides  the  principle  of  conscience,  together  with  the  subjection  that 
is  due  to  it  from  all  the  other  appetites  and  passions;  just  as  the  idea 
of  a  civil  constitution  is  formed,  not  barely  from  enumerating  the 
several  members  and  ranks  of  which  it  is  composed,  but  from  these 
considered  as  acting  in  various  degrees  of  subordination  to  each  oth- 
er, and  all  under  the  direction  of  the  same  supreme  authority,  wheth- 
er that  authority  be  vested  in  one  person  or  more. 

The  view  here  given  of  the  internal  constitution  of  man,  and  of 
the  supremacy  of  conscience,  agreeably  to  the  conceptions  of  Bish- 
op Butler,  enables  us  to  comprehend  the  force  of  that  expression, 
common  to  him  and  the  ancient  moralists,  that  virtue  consists  in  fol- 
lowing nature.  The  meaning  cannot  be,  that  it  consists  in  acting 
agreeably  to  that  propensity  of  our  nature  which  happens  to  be  the 
strongest;  or  which  propels  us  towards  certain  objects,  without  any 
regard  to  the  methods  by  which  they  are  to  be  obtained;  but  the 
meaning  must  be,  that  virtue  consists  in  the  due  regulation  and  sub- 
jection of  all  the  other  appetites  and  aft'ections  to  the  superior  facul- 
ty of  conscience ;  from  a  conformity  to  which  alone  our  actions  are 
properly  natural,  or  correspondent  to  the  nature,  to  the  whole  nature 
of  such  an  age«t  as  man.  From  hence  to  it  appears,  that  the  Au- 
thor of  our  frame  is  by  no  means  indifferent  to  virtue  and  vice,  or  has 
left  us  at  liberty  to  act  at  random,  as  humor  or  appetite  may  prompt 
us;  but  that  every  man  has  the  rule  of  right  within  him;  a  rule  at- 
tended in  the  very  notion  of  it  with  authority,  and  such  as  has  the 
force  of  a  direction  and  a  command  from  him,  who  made  us  what  we 
are,  what  course  of  behavior  is  suited  to  our  nature,  and  which  he 
expects  that  we  should  follow.  This  moral  faculty  implies  also  a 
pre-sentiraent  and  apprehension,  that  the  judgment  which  it  passes 
on  our  actions,  considered  as  of  good  or  ill  desert,  will  hereafter  be 
confirmed  by  the  unerring  judgment  of  God  ;  when  virtue  and  hap- 
piness, vice  and  misery,  whose  ideas  are  now  so  closely  connected, 
shall  be  indissolubly  united,  and  the  divine  government  be  found  to 
correspond  in  the  most  exact  proportion  to  the  nature  he  has  given 
us.  Lastly,  this  just  prerogative  or  supremacy  of  conscience  it  is, 
■which  Mr.  Pope  has  described  in  his  Universal  Prayer,  though  per- 
haps he  may  have  expressed  it  rather  too  strongly,  where  he  says, 


18  PREFACE 

«'  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done,  •       ' 

♦'  Or  warns  me  not  to  do, 
*'  This  tench  me  mohf.  than  Hell  to  shun, 

"  That  MOKE  THAN  Heaven  pursue." 

Tl.e  reader  will  observe,  that  this  way  of  treating  the  subject  of 
morals  by  an  ippe^'l  to  facts  does  not  at  all  interfere  with  that  other 
way,  adopted  by  Dr  Samuel  Clarice j  and  others,  which  begins  with 
inquiring  into  the  relations  and  jitnesses  of  thingSf  but  rather  illus- 
trates and  connrins  it.  That  there  are  essential  differences  in  the 
qualities  of  human  actions,  established  by  nature,  and  that  this  natu- 
ral difference  of  things,  prior  to  and  independent  of  all  will,  creates 
a  natural  fitnessin  the  agent  to  act  agreeably  to  it,  seems  as  little  to 
be  denied,  as  that  there  is  a  moral  difference  before  explained,  from 
which  we  approve  and  feel  a  pleasure  in  what  is  right,  and  conceive 
a  distaste  to  what  is  wrong.  Still,  however,  when  we  are  endeavor- 
ing to  establish  either  this  moral  or  that  natural  difference,  it  ought 
never  to  be  forgotten,  or  rather  it  will  require  to  be  distinctly  shewn, 
that  both  of  these,  when  traced  up  to  their  source,  suppose  an  intelli- 
gent Autho*-  of  nature  and  moral  Ruler  of  the  world;  who  originally 
appointed  these  differences,  and  by  such  an  appointment  has  signified 
his  WILL  that  we  should  conform  to  them,  as  the  only  effectual  meth- 
od of  securing  our  HAPPINESS  on  the  whole  under  his  government.* 
And  of  this  consideration  our  Prelate  himself  was  not  unmindful; 
as  ma}-  be  collected  from  many  expressions  in  different  parts  of  his 
writings,  and  particularly  from  the  following  passages  in  his  Xlth  Ser- 
mon. "It  may  be  allowed,  without  any  prejudice  to  the  cause  of  vir- 
tue and  religion,  that  our  ideas  of  happiness  and  misery  are,  of  all 
our  ideas,  the  nearest  and  most  important  to  us;  that  they  will,  nay, 
if  you  please,  that  they  ought  to  prevail  over  those  of  order,  and 
beauty,  and  harmony,  and  proportion,  if  there  should  ever  be,  as 
it  is  impossible  there  ever  should  be,  any  inconsistence  between 
them."  And  a^ain,  "Though  virtue  or  moral  rectitude  does  indeed 
consist  in  affection  to  and  pursuit  of  what  is  right  and  good,  as  such;, 
yet,  when  we  sit  down  in  a  cool  hour,  we  can  neither  justify  to  our- 
selvs  this  or  any  other  pursuit,  till  we  are  convinced  that  it  will  be 
for  our  happiness,  or  at  least  not  contrary  to  it."t 

Besides  the  general  system  of  morality  opened  above,  our  Author 
in  his  Volume  of  Sermons  has  stated  with  accuracy  the  difference 
between  self-love  and  benevolence;  in  opposition  to  those,  who  on 
tho  one  hand  make  the  whole  of  virtue  to  consist  in  benevolence, J 
and  to  those,  who  on  the  other  assert  that  every  particular  affection 
and  action  is  resolvable  into  self-love.  In  combating  these  opinions, 
he  has  shewn,  I  think  unanswerably,  that  there  are  the  same  kind  of 
indications  in  human  nature  that  we  were  made  to  promote  the  hap- 
piness of  others,  as  that  we  were  made  to  promote  our  own:  that  it  is 
no  just  objection  to  this,  that  we  have  dispositions  to  do  evil  to 
others  as  well  as  ^ood to  ourselves,  to  our  own  most  important  interests 
even  in  this  life,  for  the  sake  of  gratifying  a  present  passion:  that 
the  thing  to  be  lamented  is,  not  that  men  have  too  great  a  regard 
to  their  own  real^good,  but  that  they  have  not  enough:  that  be- 

•  See  rote  [E],  at  the  end  of  this  Preface.  f  Serm.  XL  p.  229. 

i  Sec  the  2d  Dissertation,  Ou  Uie  Nature  of  Virtue,  at  the  ead  of  the  Analogy. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  19 

nevolence  is  not  more  at  variance  with  or  unfriendly  to  self-love, 
than  any  other  particular  affection  is;  and  that,  by  consulting  the  hap- 
piness of  others,  a  man  is  so  far  from  lessening  his  own,  that  the  very 
endeavor  to  do  so,  though  he  should  fail  in  the  accomplishment,  is  a 
source  of  the  highest  satisfaction  and  peace  of  mind.*  He  has  also,  in 
passing,  animadverted  on  the  philosopher  of  Malmsbuary,  who  in  his 
book  Of  Human  Mature  has  advanced,  as  discoveries  in  moral  sci- 
ence, that  benevolence  is  only  the  love  of  power,  and  compassion 
the  fear  of  future  calamity  to  ourselves-  And  this  our  Author 
has  done,  not  so  much  with  the  design  of  exposing  the  false  rea- 
soning of  Mr.  Hobhes,  but  because  on  so  perverse  an  account  of  hu- 
man nature  he  has  raised  a  system,  subversive  of  all  justice  and  hon- 
esty.t 

II.  The  Religious  System  of  Bishop  Botler  is  chiefly  to  be  col- 
lected from  the  treatise,  entitled  The  Analogy  of  Religion,  JSTatiiral 
and  Revealed,  to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  JSTature. 

*dll  things  are  double  one  against  another,  and  God  hath  made  noth' 
ing  imperfect.^  On  this  single  observation  of  the  Son  of  Sirach, 
the  whole  fabric  of  our  Prelate's  defence  of  religion,  in  his  Analogy, 
is  raised.  Instead  of  indulging  to  idle  speculations,  how  the  world 
might  possibly  have  been  better  than  it  is;  or,  forgetful  of  the  differ- 
ence between  hypothesis  and  fact,  attempting  to  explain  the  divine 
economy  with  respect  to  intelligent  creatures  from  pre-conceived  no- 
tions of  his  own;  he  first  inquires  what  the  constitution  of  nature, 
as  made  known  to  us  in  the  way  of  experiment,  actually  is;  and 
from  this,  now  seen  and  acknowledged,  he  endeavors  to  form  a  judg- 
ment of  that  larger  constitution,  which  religion  discovers  to  us.  If 
the  dispensation  of  Trovidence  we  are  now  under,  considered  as  in- 
habitants of  this  world;  and  having  a  temporal  interest  to  secure  in 
it,  be  found,  on  examination,  to  be  analogous  to,  and  of  a  piece  with 
that  further  dispensation,  which  relates  to  us  as  designed  for  another 
world,  in  which  we  have  an  eternal  interest,  depending  on  our  be- 
havior here;  if  both  may  be  traced  up  to  the  same  general  laws,  and  ap- 
pear to  be  carried  on  according  to  the  same  plan  of  administration;  the 
fair  presumption  is,  that  both  proceed  from  one  and  the  same  Author. 
And  if  the  principal  parts  objected  to  in  this  latter  dispensation  be 
similar  to,  and  of  the  same  kind  with  what  we  certainly  experience 
under  the  former,  the  objections,  being  clearly  inconclusive  in  one 
case,  because  contradicted  by  plain  fact,  must,  in  all  reason,  be  al- 
lowed to  be  inconclusive  also  in  the  other. 

This  way  of  arguing  from  what  is  acknowledged  to  what  is  dispu- 
ted, from  things  known  to  other  things  that  resemble  them;  from  that 
part  of  the  divine  establishment  which  is  exposed  to  our  view,  to 
that  more  important  one  which  lies  beyond  it,  is  on  all  hands  confes- 
sed to  be  just.  Bj  this  method  Sir  Isaac  Newton  has  unfolded  the 
System  of  Nature;  by  the  same  method  Bishop  Butler  has  ex- 
plained the  System  of  Grace,  and  thus,  to  use  the  words  of  a  writer, 
whom  I  quote  with  pleasure,  "  has  formed  and  concluded  a  happj 
alliance  between  faith  and  philosophy."§ 

*  See  Sermons  t.  and  XL  and  the  Preface  to  the  Volume  of  Sermons, 
t  See  the  Notes  to  Sermon  I.  and  V.  ^  Ecclus.  xlii.  24. 

§  Mr.  Mainwaring's  Dissertation,  prefixed  to  this  Volume  of  Sermons. 


sa  PREFACE 

And  although  the  argument  from  analogy  be  allowed  to  be  imper- 
fect, and  by  no  means  sufficient  to  solve  all  difficulties  respecting  the 
government  of  God,  and  the  designs  of  his  Providence  with  regard  to 
mankind,  (a  degree  of  knowledge,  which  we  are  not  furnished  with 
faculties  for  attaining,  at  least  in  the  present  state)  yet  surely  it 
is  of  importance  to  learn  from  it,  that  the  natural  and  moral  world 
are  intimately  connected,  and  parts  Of  one  stupendous  whole  or  sys- 
tem; and  that  the  chief  objections,  which  are  brought  against  reli- 
gion, may  be  urged  with  equal  force  against  the  constitution  and 
course  of  nature,  where  they  are  certainly  falst*  in  fact.  And  this 
information  we  may  derive  from  the  work  before  us;  the  proper  de- 
sign of  which,  it  may  be  of  use  to  observe,  is  not  to  prove  the  truth 
of  religion  either  natural  or  revealed,  but  to  confirm  that  proof,  al- 
ready known,  by  considerations  from  analogy. 

After  this  account  of  the  metiiod  of  reasoning  employed  by  our 
Author,  let  us  now  advert  to  his  manner  of  applying  it,  first  to  the 
subject  of  Natural  Religion,  and  secondly  that  of  Revealed. 

1.  The  foundation  of  all  our  hopes  and  fears  is  a  future  life;  and 
with  this  the  treatise  begins.  Neither  the  reason  of  the  thing,  nor 
the  analogy  of  nature,  according  to  Bishop  Butlek,  give  ground  for 
imagining,  that  the  unknown  event,  death,  will  be  our  destruction. 
The  states  in  which  we  have  formerly  existed,  in  the  womb  and  in 
infancy,  are  not  more  different  from  each  other  than  f'  am  that  of  ma- 
ture age  in  which  we  now  exist:  therefore  that  we  shall  continue  to 
exist  hereafter,  in  a  state  as  different  from  the  present  as  the  present 
is  from  those  through  which  we  have  passed  already,  is  a  presump- 
tion favored  by  the  analogy  of  nature.  All  that  we  know  from  rea- 
son concerning  death,  is  the  effects  it  has  upon  animal  bodies:  and 
the  frequent  instances  among  men  of  the  intellectual  powers  contin- 
uing in  high  health  and  vigor,  at  the  very  time  when  a  mortal  dis- 
ease is  on  the  point  of  putting  an  end  to  all  the  powers  of  sensation, 
induce  us  to  hope  that  it  may  have  no  effect  at  all  on  the  human  soul, 
not  even  so  much  as  to  suspend  the  exercise  of  its  faculties;  though 
if  it  have,  the  suspension  of  a  power  by  no  means  implies  its  extinc- 
tion, as  sleep  or  a  swoon  may  convince  us.* 

The  probability  of  a  future  state  once  granted,  an  important  ques- 
tion arises,  how  best  to  secure  our  interest  in  that  state.  We  find 
from  what  passes  daily  before  us,  that  the  constitution  of  nature  ad- 
mits of  misery  as  well  as  happiness;  that  both  of  these  are  the  con- 
sequences of  our  own  actions;  and  these  consequences  we  are  ena- 
bled to  foresee.  Therefore,  that  our  happiness  or  misery  in  a  future 
world  may  depend  on  oijr  own  actions  also,  and  that  rewards  or 
punishments  hereafter  may  follow  our  good  or  ill  behavior  here,  is  but 
an  appointment  of  the  same  sort  with  what  we  experience  under  the 
the  divine  government,  according  to  the  regular  course  of  nature.! 

This  supposition  is  confirmed  from  another  circumstance,  that  the 
natural  government  of  God,  under  which  we  now  live,  is  also  moral; 
in  which  rewards  and  punishments  are  the  consequences  of  actions, 
considered  as  virtuous  and  vicious.  Not  that  every  man  is  rewarded 
nv  punished  here  in  exact  proportion  to  his  desert;  for  the  essential 

•  Part  I   Chap.  1.        t  Pwt  f.  Chap  2, 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  21 

tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice  to  produce  happiness  and  the  contrary 
are  often  hindered  from  taking  effect  from  accidental  causes.  How- 
ever, there  are  plainly  the  rudiments  and  beginnings  of  a  righteous 
administration  to  be  discerned  in  the  constitution  of  nature;  from 
whence  we  are  led  to  expect,  that  these  accidental  hindrances  will 
one  day  be  removed,  and  the  rule  of  distributive  justice  obtain  com- 
pletely in  a  more  perfect  state* 

The  moral  government  of  God,  thus  established,  implies  in  the 
notion  of  it  some  sort  of  trial,  or  a  moral  possibility  of  acting  wrong 
as  well  as  right,  in  those  who  are  the  subjects  of  it.  And  the  doc- 
trine of  religion,  that  the  present  life  is  in  fact  a  state  of  probation 
for  a  future  one,  is  rendered  credible,  from  its  being  analogous 
throughout  to  the  general  conduct  of  Providence  towards  us  with  res- 
pect to  this  world;  in  which  prudence  is  necessary  to  secure  our  tem- 
poral interest,  just  as  we  are  taught  that  virtue  is  necessary  to  secure 
our  eternal  interest;  and  both  are  trusted  to  ourselves.f 

But  the  present  life  is  not  merely  a  state  of  probation,  implying  in 
it  difficulties  and  danger;  it  is  also  a  state  of  discipline  and  improve- 
ment; and  that  both  in  our  temporal  and  religious  capacity.  Thus 
childhood  is  a  state  of  discipline  for  youth;  youth  for  manhood,  and 
that  for  old  age.  Strength  of  body,  and  maturity  of  understanding, 
are  acquired  by  degrees;  and  neither  of  them  without  continual  exer- 
cise and  attention  on  our  part,  not  only  in  the  beginning  of  life,  but 
through  the  whole  course  of  it.  So  again  with  respect  to  our  reli- 
gious concerns,  the  present  world  is  fitted  to  be,  and  to  good  men  is 
in  event,  a  state  of  discipline  and  improvement  for  a  future  one. 
The  several  passions  and  propensions,  implanted  in  our  hearts,  incline 
us,  in  a  multitude  of  instances,  to  forbidden  pleasures:  this  inward 
infirmity  is  increased  by  various  snares  and  temptations,  perpetually 
occurring  from  without.  Hence  arises  the  necessity  of  recollection 
and  self-government,  of  withstanding  the  calls  of  appetite,  and  form- 
ing our  minds  to  habits  of  piety  and  virtue;  habits,  of  which  we  are 
capable,  and  which  to  creatures  in  a  state  of  moral  imperfection,  and 
fallen  from  their  original  integrity,  must  be  of  the  greatest  use,  as  an 
additional  security,  over  and  above  the  principle  of  conscience,  from 
the  dangers  to  which  we  are  exposed. | 

Nor  is  the  credibility  here  given,  by  the  analogy  of  nature  to  the 
general  doctrine  of  religion,  destroyed  or  weakened  by  any  notions 
concerning  necessity.  Of  itself  it  is  a  mere  word,  the  sign  of  an 
abstract  idea;  and  as  much  requires  an  agent,  that  is,  a  necessary 
agent,  in  order  to  effect  any  thing,  as  freedom  requires  a  free  agent. 
Admitting  it  to  be  speculatively  true,  if  considered  as  influencing 
practice,  it  is  the  same  as  false;  for  it  is  matter  of  experience,  that, 
with  regard  to  ©ur  present  interest,  and  as  inhabitants  of  this  world, 
we  are  treated  as  if  we  were  free;  and  therefore  the  analogy  of  nature 
leads  us  to  conclude,  that,  with  regard  to  our  future  interest,  and  as 
designed  for  another  world,  we  shall  be  treated  as  free  also.  Noj* 
does  the  opinion  of  necessity,  supposing  it  possible,  at  all  affect  either 
the  general  proof  of  religion,  or  its  external  evidence.§ 

•Chap.  3.       t  Chap.  4.       +  Chap.  5.       §  Chap.  6. 


22  PREFACE 

Still  objections  may  be  made  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
the  divine  government,  to  which  analogy,  which  can  only  shew  the 
truth  or  credibility  of  facts,  atFords  no  answer.  Yet  even  here  anal- 
ogy is  of  use,  if  it  suggest  that  the  divine  government  is  a  scheme  or 
system,  and  not  a  number  of  unconnected  acts,  and  that  this  system 
is  also  above  our  comprehension.  Now  the  government  of  the  nat- 
ural world  appears  to  be  a  system  of  this  kind;  with  parts,  related  to 
each  other,  and  together  composing  a  whole;  in  which  system  ends 
are  brought  about  by  the  use  of  means,  many  of  which  means.  before% 
experience,  would  have  been  suspected  to  have  had  a  quite  contrary 
tendency;  which  is  carried  on  by  general  laws,  similar  causes  uni- 
formly producing  similar  eflfects;  the  utility  of  which  general  laws, 
and  the  inconveniences  which  would  probably  arise  from  the  occa- 
sional or  even  secret  suspension  of  them,  we  are  in  some  sort  enabled 
to  discern;*  but  of  the  whole  we  are  incompetent  judges,  because  of 
the  small  part  which  comes  within  our  view.  Reasoning  then  from 
what  we  know,  it  is  highly  credible,  that  the  government  of  the  moral 
world  is  a  system  also,  carried  on  by  general  laws,  and  in  which 
ends  are  accomplished  by  th«  intervention  of  means ;  and  that  both 
constitutions,  the  natural  and  the  moral,  are  so  connected,  as  to 
form  together  but  one  scheme.  But  of  this  scheme,  as  of  that  of  the 
natural  world  taken  alone,  we  are  not  qualified  to  judge,  on  account 
of  the  mutual  respect  of  the  several  parts,  to  each  other  and  to  the 
whole,  and  our  own  incapacity  to  survey  the  whole,  or,  with  accuracy, 
any  single  part.  All  objections  therefore  to  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  the  divine  government  may  be  founded  merely  on  our  igno- 
rance;! and  to  such  objections  our  ignorance  is  the  proper  and  a 
satisfactory  answer.  | 

2.  The  chief  difficulties  concerning  Natural  Religion  being  now 
removed,  our  author  proceeds,  in  the  next  place,  to  that  which  is 
revealed;  and  as  an  introduction  to  an  inquiry  into  the  credibility  of 
Christianity,  begins  with  the  consideration  of  its  importance. 

The  importance  of  Christianity  appears  in  two  respects.  First,  in 
its  being  a  republication  of  Natural  Religion,  in  its  native  simplicity, 
with  authority,  and  with  circumstances  of  advantage;  ascertaining, 
in  many  instances  of  moment,  what  before  was  only  probable,  and 
particularly  confirming  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments.^  Secondly,  as  revealing  a  new  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence, originating  from  the  pure  love  and  mercy  of  God,  and  con- 
ducted by  the  mediation  of  his  Son,  and  the  guidance  of  his  Spirit, 
for  the  recovery  and  salvation  of  mankind,  represented  in  a  state  of 
apostacy  and  ruin.  This  account  of  Christianity  being  admitted  to 
be  just,  and  the  distinct  offices  of  these  three  Divine  Persons  being 
once  discovered  to  us,  we  are  as  much  obliged  in  point  of  duty  to 
acknowledge  the  relations  we  stand  in  to  the  Son  and  Holy  Ghost, 
as  our  Mediator  and  Sanctifier,  as  we  are  obliged  in  point  of  duty  to 
acknowledge  the  relation  we  stand  in  to  God  the  Father;  although 
the  two  former  of  these  relations  be  learnt  from  revelation  only,  and 

•  See  a  Treatise  on  Divine  Benevolence,  by  Dr.  Thomas  Balguy,  Part  II. 
t  See  note  [F]  at  the  end  of  thjs  Preface.       i  Chap.  7.        §  See  note  [G]  at  the 
ead  of  this  Preface. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  2S 

in  the  last  we  are  instructed  by  the  light  of  nature;  the  obligation  in 
either  case  arising  from  the  offices  themselves,  and  not  at  all  depend- 
ing  on  the  manner  in  which  they  are  made  known  to  us.* 

The  presumptions  against  revelation  in  general  are,  that  it  is  not 
discoverable  by  reason,  that  it  is  unlike  to  what  is  so  discoverad,  and 
that  it  was  introduced  and  supported  by  miracles.  But  in  a  scheme 
so  large  as  that  of  the  universe,  unbounded  in  extent,  and  everlasting 
in  duration,  there  must  of  necessity  be  numberless  circumstances 
which  are  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties  to  discern,  and  which  can 
only  be  known  by  divine  illumination.  And  both  in  the  natural  and 
moral  government  of  the  world,  under  which  w&  live,  we  find  many 
things  unlike  one  to  another,  and  therefore  ought  not  to  wonder  if 
the  same  unlikeness  obtain  between  things  visible  and  invisible; 
although  it  be  far  from  true,  that  revealed  religion  is  entirely  unlike 
the  constitution  of  nature,  as  analogy  may  teach  us.  Nor  is  there 
any  thing  incredible  in  revelation,  considered  as  miraculous;  whether 
miracles  be  supposed  to  have  been  performed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  or  after  a  course  of  nature  has  been  established.  Not  at  the 
beginning  of  the  world;  for  then  there  was  either  no  course  of  nature 
at  all,  or  a  power  must  have  been  exerted  totally  different  from  what 
that  course  is  at  present.  All  men  and  animals  cannot  have  been 
born,  as  they  are  now  ;  but  a  pair  of  each  sort  must  have  been  pro- 
duced at  first,  in  a  way  altogether  unlike  to  that  in  which  they  have 
been  since  produced;  unless  we  affirm,  that  men  and  animals  have 
existed  from  eternity  in  an  endless  succession:  one  miracle  there- 
fore at  least  there  must  have  been,  at  the  beginning  of  the  world,  or 
at  the  time  of  man's  creation.  Not  after  the  settlement  of  a  course 
of  nature,  on  account  of  miracles  being  contrary  to  that  course,  or, 
in  other  words,  contrary  to  experience:  for  in  order  to  know  whether 
miracles,  worked  in  attestation  of  a  divine  religion,  be  contrary  to 
experience  or  not,  we  ought  to  be  acquainted  with  other  cases  similar 
or  parallel  to  those,  in  which  miracles  are  alledged  to  have  been 
wrought.  But  where  shall  we  find  sucb  similar  or  parallel  cases? 
The  world  which  we  inhabit  affords  none.  We  know  of  no  extraor- 
dinary revelations  from  God  to  man,  but  those  recorded  in  the  Old 
and  New  Testament;  all  of  which  were  established  by  miracles.  It 
cannot  therefore  be  said  that  miracle*  are  incredible,  because  con- 
trary to  experience,  when  all  the  experience  we  have  is  in  favor  of 
miracles,  and  on  the  side  of  religion. f  Besides,  in  reasoning  con- 
cerning miracles,  they  ought  not  to  be  compared  with  common  nat- 
ural events,  but  with  uncommon  appearances,  such  as  comets,  mag- 
netism, electricity;  which  to  one  acquainted  only  with  the  usual 
phenomena  of  nature,  and  the  common  powers  of  matter,  must,  before 
proof  of  their  actual  existence,  be  thought  incredible.:^ 

The  presumptions  against  revelation  in  general  being  dispatched, 
objections  against  the  Christian  revelation  in  particular,  against  the 
scheme  of  it,  as  distinguished  from  objections  against  its  evidence, 
are  considered  next.  Now,  supposing  a  revelation  to  be  really  given, 
it  is  highly  probable  beforehand,  that  it  must  contain  many  things, 
appearing  to  us  liable  to  objections.  The  acknowledged  dispensation 

•  Part  11.  Chap.  I.       f  See  note  [H]  at  the  ^nd  of  this  Preface.       +  Chap.  2. 


U  PREFACE 

of  nature  is  very  different  from  what  we  should  have  expected;  rea- 
soning then  from  analogy,  the  revealed  dispensation,  it  is  credible, 
would  be  also  different.  Nor  are  we  in  any  sort  judges  at  what 
time,  or  in  what  degree,  or  manner,  it  is  fit  or  expedient  for  God  to 
instruct  us,  in  things  confessedly  of  the  greatest  use,  either  by  nat- 
ural reason,  or  by  supernatural  information.  Tlius,  arguing  on  spec- 
ulation only,  and  without  experience,  it  would  seem  very  unlikely 
that  so  important  a  remedy  as  that  provided  by  Christianity  for  the 
recovery  of  mankind  from  a  state  of  ruin,  should  have  been  for  so 
many  ages  withheld;  and,  M'hen  at  last  vouchsafed,  should  be  imparted 
to  so  few;  and,  after  it  has  been  imparted,  should  be  attended  with 
obscurity  and  doubt.  And  just  so  we  might  have  argued,  before 
experience,  concerning  the  remedies  provided  in  nature  for  bodily 
diseases,  to  which  by  nature  we  are  exposed:  for  many  of  these  were 
unknown  to  mankind  for  a  number  of  ages;  are  known  but  to  few 
now;  some  important  ones  probably  not  discovered  yet;  and  tHose 
which  are,  neither  certain  in  their  application,  nor  universal  in  their 
use.  And  the  same  mode  of  reasoning  that  would  lead  us  to  expect 
they  should  have  been  so,  would  lead  us  to  expect  that  the  necessity 
«f  them  should  have  been  superseded,  by  there  being  no  diseases;  as 
the  necessity  of  the  Christian  scheme,  it  may  be  thought,  might  also 
have  been  superseded,  by  preventing  the  fall  of  man,  so  that  he  should 
not  have  stood  in  need  of  a  redeemer  at  all.* 

As  to  objections  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  Christianity, 
the  same  answer  may  be  applied  to  them  as  was  to  the  like  objections 
against  the  censtitution  of  nature.  For  here  also,  Christianity  is  a 
scheme  or  economy,  composed  of  various  parts,  forming  a  whole;  in 
which  scheme  means  are  used  for  the  accomplishing  of  ends:  and 
which  is  conducted  by  general  laws:  of  all  of  which  we  know  as  little 
as  we  do  of  the  constitution  of  nature.  And  the  seeming  want  of 
wisdom  or  goodness  in  this  system  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  same 
cause,  as  the  like  appearances  of  defects  in  the  natural  system;  our 
inability  to  discern  the  whole  scheme,  and  our  ignorance  of  the  rela- 
tion of  those  parts  which  are  discernible  to  others  beyond  our  view. 

The  objections  against  Christianity  as  a  matter  of  fact,  ami  against 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  it,  having  been  obviated  together,  the 
chief  of  them  are  now  to  be  considered  distinctly.  One  of  these, 
which  is  levelled  against  the  entire  system  itself,  is  of  this  sort:  the 
restoration  of  mankind,  represented  in  Scripture  as  the  great  design 
of  the  Gospel,  is  described  as  requiring  a  long  series  of  means,  and 
persons,  and  dispensations,  before  it  can  be  brought  to  its  completion^ 
whereas  the  whole  ought  to  have  been  effected  at  once.  Now  every 
thing  we  see  in  the  course  of  nature  shews  the  folly  of  this  objection. 
For  in  the  natural  course  of  Providence,  ends  are  brought  about  by 
means,  not  operating  immediately  and  at  once,  but  deliberately  and 
in  a  way  of  progression;  one  thing  being  subservient  to  another,  this 
to  somewhat  further.  The  change  of  seasons,  the  ripening  of  fruits, 
the  growth  of  vegetable  and  animal  bodies,  are  instances  of  this. 
And  therefore  that  the  same  progressive  method  should  be  followed 
in  the  dispensation  of  Christianity,  as  is  observed  in  the  common 

»  Chap.  &, 


BY  THE  EDITOR. 


if 


dispensation  of  Providence,  is  a  reasonable  expectation,  justified  bj 
the  analogy  of  nature.* 

Another  circumstance  objected  to  in  the  Christian  scheme  is,  the 
appointment  of  a  Mediator,  and  the  saving  of  the  world  through  him. 
But  the  visible  government  of  God  being  actually  administered  ia 
this  way,  or  by  the  mediation  and  instrumentality  of  others,  there 
can  be  no  general  presumption  against  an  appointment  of  this  kind, 
against  his  invisible  government  being  exercised  in  the  same  manner. 
We  have  seen  already  that,  with  regard  to  ourselves,  this  visible 
government  is  carried  on  by  rewards  and  punishments;  for  happiness 
and  misery  are  the  consequences  of  our  own  actions,  considered  as 
virtuous  and  vicious,  and  these  consequences  we  are  enabled  to 
foresee.  It  might  have  been  imagined,  before  consulting  experience, 
that  after  we  had  rendered  ourselves  liable  to  misery  by  our  own  ill 
conduct,  sorrow  for  what  was  past,  and  behaving  well  for  the  future, 
would,  alone  and  of  themselves,  have  exempted  us  from  deserved 
punishment,  and  restored  us  to  the  divine  favor.  But  the  fact  is 
otherwise;  and  real  reformation  is  often  found  to  be  of  no  avail,  so 
as  to  secure  the  criminal  from  poverty,  sickness,  infamy,  and  death, 
the  never-failing  attendants  on  vice  and  extravagance,  exceeding  a 
certain  degree.  By  the  course  of  nature  then  it  appears,  God  does 
not  always  pardon  a  sinner  on  his  repentancej  Yet  there  is  provision 
made,  even  in  nature,  that  the  miseries,  which  men  bring  on  them- 
selves by  unlawful  indulgences,  may  in  many  cases  be  mitigated, 
and  in  some  removed;  partly  by  extraordinary  exertions  of  the 
offender  himself,  but  more  especially  and  frequently  by  the  inter- 
vention of  others,  who  voluntarily,  and  from  motives  of  compassioD, 
submit  to  labor  and  sorrow,  such  as  produce  long  and  lasting  incon- 
veniences to  themselves,  as  the  means  of  rescuing  another  from  the 
wretched  effects  of  former  imprudences.  Vicarious  punishment; 
therefore,  or  one  person's  sufferings  contributing  to  the  relief  of 
another,  is  a  providential  disposition,  in  the  economy  of  nature:! 
and  it  ought  not  to  be  matter  of  surprise,  if  by  a  method  analogous 
to  this  we  be  redeemed  from  sin  and  misery,  in  the  economy  of  grace. 
That  mankind  at  present  are  in  a  state  of  degradation,  different  froni 
that  in  which  they  were  originally  created,  is  the  very  ground  of  the 
Christian  Revelation,  as  contained  in  the  Scriptures.  Whether  wc 
acquiesce  in  the  account,  that  our  being  placed  in  such  a  state  is 
owing  to  the  crime  ol  our  first  parents,  or  choose  to  ascribe  it  to  any 
other  cause,  it  makes  no  difference  as  to  our  condition;  the  vice  and 
unhappiness  of  the  world  are  still  there,  notwithstanding  all  our 
suppositions;  nor  is  it  Christianity  that  hath  put  us  into  this  state.. 
We  learn  also  from  the  same  Scriptures,  what  experience  and  the  use 
of  expiatory  sacrifices  from  the  most  early  times  might  have  taught 
us,  that  repentance  alone  is  not  sufficient  to  prevent  the  fatal  conse« 
quences  of  past  transgressions;  but  that  still  there  is  room  for  mercy, 
and  that  repentance  shall  be  available,  though  not  of  itself,  yet  thro' 
the  mediation  of  a  Divine  Person,  the  Messiah;  who,  from  the  sub- 
limest  principles  of  compassion,  when  we  were  dead  in  trespasses  and 
9ins,\  suffered  and  died,  the  innocent  for  the  guilty,  the  just  for  the 

*•  Chap.  4.  t  See  note  r  f]  at  the  end  of  tJu»  Prefa*"/?.  t  Ephea.  ii,  K 

D 


26  PREFACE 

unjust,*  that  wc  might  have  redemptioji  ihrou^^h  his  blood,  even  the 
forgiveness  of  sins  t  In  what  way  the  death  of  Christ  was  of  that 
efficacy  it  is  said  to  be,  in  procuring  the  reconciliation  of  sinners,  the 
Scriptures  have  not  explained:  it  is  enough  that  the  doctrine  is  re- 
vealed; that  it  is  not  contrary  to  any  truths  which  reason  and  expe- 
rience teach  us;  and  that  it  accords  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
usual  method  of  the  divine  conduct  in  the  government  of  the  worM.^ 

Again  it  hath  been  said,  that  if  the  Christian  revelation  were  true, 
it  must  have  been  universal,  and  could  not  have  been  left  upon  doubt- 
ful evidence.  But  Go^,  in  his  natural  Providence,  dispenses  his  gifts 
in  great  variety,  not  only  among  creatures  of  the  same  species,  but  to 
the  same  individuals  also  at  different  times.  Had  the  Christian  revela- 
tion been  universal  at  first,  yet  trom  the  diversity  of  men's  abilities, 
both  of  mind  and  body, their  various  means  of  improvement,  and  other 
external  advantages,  some  persons  must  soon  have  been  in  a  situation, 
with  respect  to  religious  knowledge,  much  superior  to  that  of  others, 
as  much  perhaps  as  they  are  at  present:  and  all  men  will  be  equitably 
dealt  with  at  last;  and  to  whom  little  is  given,  of  him  little  will  be 
required.  Then  as  to  the  evidence  for  religion  being  left  doubtful, 
difficulties  of  this  sort,  like  difficulties  in  practice,  afford  scope  and 
opportunity  for  a  virtuous  exercise  of  the  understanding,  and  dispose 
the  mind  to  acquiesce  and  rest  satisfied  with  any  evidence  that  is  real. 
In  the  daily  commerce  of  life,  men  are  obliged  to  act  upon  great 
uncertainties,  with  regard  to  success  in  their  temporal  pursuits;  and 
the  case  with  regard  to  religion  is  parallel.  However,  though  religion 
be  not  intuitively  true,  the  proofs  of  it  which  we  have  are  amply  suffi- 
cient in  reason  to  induce  us  to  embrace  it;  and  dissatisfaction  with 
those  proofs  may  possibly  be  men's  own  fault.§ 

Nothing  remains  but  to  attend  to  the  positive  evidence  there  is  for 
the  truth  of  Christianity.  Now,  besides  its  direct  and  fundamental 
proofs,  which  are  miracles  and  prophecies,  there  are  many  collateral 
circumstances,  which  may  be  united  into  one  view,  and  all  together 
may  be  considered  as  making  up  one  argument.  In  this  way  of  treat- 
ing the  subject,  the  revelation,  whether  real  or  otherwise,  may  be 
supposed  to  be  wholly  historical:  the  general  design  of  which  appears 
to  be,  to  give  an  account  of  the  condition  of  religion,  and  its  profes- 
sors, with  a  concise  narration  of  the  political  state  of  things,  as  far 
as  religion  is  affected  by  it,  during  a  great  length  of  time,  near  six 
thousand  years  of  which  are  already  past.  More  particularly  it 
comprehends  an  account  of  God's  entering  into  covenant  with  one 
nation,  the  Jews,  that  he  would  be  their  God,  and  that  they  should 
be  his  people;  of  his  often  interposing  in  their  affairs;  giving  them 
the  promise,  and  afterwards  the  possession,  of  a  flourishing  country; 
assuring  them  of  the  greatest  national  prosperity,  in  case  of  their 
obedience,  and  threatening  the  severest  national  punishment,  in  case 
they  forsook  him  and  joined  in  the  idolatry  of  their  pagan  neighbors. 
It  contains  also  a  prediction  of  a  particular  person,  to  appear  in  the 
fulness  of  time,  in  whom  all  the  promises  of  God  to  the  Jews  were  to 
be  fulfilled:  and  it  relates  that,  at  the  time  expected,  a  person  did 
actually  appear  assuming  to  be  the  Saviour  foretold;  that  he  worked 

•  Pet,  iii.  18.  f  Coloss,  i.  14.  *  Chap.  5.  §  Chap.  C. 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  2/ 

various  miracles  among  them,  in  confirmation  of  his  divine  authority; 
and,  as  was  foretold  also,  was  rejected  and  put  to  death  by  the  very 
people  who  had  long  desired  and  waited  for  his  coming;  but  that  his 
religion,  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  was  established  in  the  world  by  his 
disciples,  invested  with  supernatural  powers  for  that  purpose;  of  the 
fate  and  fortunes  of  which  religion  there  is  a  prophetical  description, 
carried  down  to  the  end  of  time.  Let  aoy  one  now,  after  reading 
the  above  Idstory,  and  not  knowing  whether  the  whole  were  not  a 
fiction,  be  sui>pi)sed  to  ask,  whether  all  that  is  here  related  be  true? 
And  instead  of  a  direct  answer,  let  him  be  informed  of  the  several 
acknowledged  facts,  which  are  found  to  correspond  to  it  in  real  life; 
and  then  let  him  compare  the  history  and  facts  together,  and  observe 
the  astonishing  coincidence  of  both:  such  a  joint  review  must  appear 
to  him  of  very  great  weight,  and  to  amount  to  evidence  somewhat 
more  than  human.  And  unless  the  whole  series,  and  every  partic- 
ular circumstance  contained  in  it,  can  be  thought  to  have  arisen  from 
accident,  the  truth  of  Christianity  is  proved.* 

The  view  here  given  of  the  moral  and  religious  systems  of  Bishop 
Butler,  it  will  immediately  be  perceived,  is  chiefly  intended  for 
younger  students,  especially  for  students  in  divinity;  to  whom  it  is 
hoped  it  may  be  of  use,  so  as  to  encourage  them  to  peruse,  with  proper 
diligence,  the  original  works  of  the  author  liimself.  For  it  may  be 
necessary  to  observe,  that  neither  of  the  volumes  of  this  excellent 
Prelate  are  addressed  to  those,  who  read  for  amusement,  or  curiosity, 
or  to  get  red  of  time.  All  subjects  are  not  to  be  comprehended  with 
the  same  ease;  and  morality  and  religion,  when  treated  as  sciences, 
each  accompanied  with  difficulties  of  its  own,  can  neither  of  them  be 
understood  as  they  ought,  without  a  very  peculiar  attention.  But 
morality  and  religion  are  not  merely  to  be  studied  as  sciences,  or  as 
being  speculatively  true;  they  are  to  be  regarded  in  another  and 
higher  light,  as  the  rule  of  life  and  manners,  as  containing  authorita- 
tive directions  by  which  to  regulate  our  faith  and  practice.  And  in 
this  view,  the  infinite  importance  of  them  considered,  it  can  never  be 
an  indifferent  matter  whether  they  be  received  or  rejected.  For  both 
claim  to  be  the  voice  of  God;  and  whether  they  be  so  or  not,  cannot 
be  known,  till  their  claims  be  impartially  examined.  If  they  indeed 
come  from  him,  we  are  bound  to  conform  to  them  at  our  peril;  nor  is 
it  left  to  our  choice,  whether  we  will  submit  to  the  obligations  they 
impose  upon  us  or  not;  for  submit  to  them  we  must  in  such  a  sense, 
as  to  incur  the  punishments  denounced  by  both  against  wilful  disobe- 
dience to  their  injunctions.  I 

»  Chap  7.  To  the  Analogy  are  suhjoined  Two  Dissertations,  both  originally  inserted 
in  ihe  body  of  the  -work.  One  on  Personal  Identify,  in  which  are  contained  some  stric- 
tures on  Mr  Locke,  who  asserts  that  consciousness  makes  or  constitutes  personal  iden- 
tity; whereas,  as  our  Author  observes,  conscioasness  makes  only  personality,  or  is 
necessary  to  the  idea  of  a  person.  Lea  thinking  intelligent  being,  but  presupposes, 
and  therefore  cannot  constitute  personal  identity,  just  as  knowledge  presupposes  truth, 
but  does  not  constitute  it.  Consciousness  of  past  actions  does  indeed  shew  us  the  iden- 
tity of  oui-selves,  or  gives  us  a  certain  assui-ance  that  we  are  the  same  persons  or  living 
agents  now,  wliich  we  were  at  the  time  to  which  our  remembrance  can  look  back;  but 
stiil  we  should  be  the  s^me  persons  as  we  were,  though  this  consciousness  of  what  is 
past  were  wanting,  though  all  that  had  been  done  by  us  formerly  were  toi^otten;  unless 
It  be  true,  that  no  person  has  existed  a  single  moment  beyond  what  he  can  remember. 
The  other  dissertation  is  On  the  Nature  of  Virtue,  which  properly  belongs  to  the  moral 
;vs»em  of  our  Autfcorj  already  explained. 


2^  NOTES  TO  THE  PREFACE, 

The  followlRg  Epitaph,  said  to  be  written  by  Dr.  Nathaniel  Forster,  is  iuscribed  on  a 
flat  marble  stone,  in  tlie  cathedral  church  of  Bristol,  placed  over  the  spot  where  the 
remains  of  Bishop  BcTTLsa  are  deposited;  and  which,  as  it  is  now  almost  obliterated, 
it  may  be  worth  while  here  to  preserve. 

H.  S. 

Reverendus  admodutn  in  Cliristo  Pater 

JOSEPH  BUTLER,  LL.  D. 

Hujusce  prlmo  Diceceseos 
Deinde  Dunelmensis  Episcopus. 

Qualis  quantusq;  Vir  erat 

Sua  libentissiine  agnovit  retas: 

Et  si  quid  Prsesuli  aut  Scriptoti  ad  famam  valent 

Mens  altissima, 

Ingenii  perspicacis  et  subacti  Vis, 

Animusq;  plus,  simplex,  candidus,  liberalis, 

Mortui  baud  facile  evanescet  menioria. 

Obiit  Bathonise  16  Kalend.  Julii, 

A.  D.  1752. 

Annos  natus  60. 


NOTES  TO  THE  PREFACE,  BY  THE  EDITOR. 

Page  10.  [A.j 

1)R.  BUTLERj  when  Bishop  of  Brisfoly  piit  up  a  cross,  a  plain 
piece  of  marble  inlaid,  in  the  chapel  of  his  episcopal  house.  This, 
which  was  intended  by  the  blameless  Prelate  merely  as  a  sign  or  me- 
morial, that  true  Christians  are  to  bear  their  cross,  and  not  to  be 
ashamed  of  following  a  crucified  Master,  was  considered  as  affording 
a  presumption  that  he  was  secretly  inclined  to  popish  forms  and  cer- 
emonies, and  had  no  great  dislike  to  popery  itself.  And,  on  account 
of  the  offence  it  occasioned,  both  at  the  time  antl  since,  it  were  to  be 
wished,  in  prudence,  it  had  not  been  done. 

Page  12.  [B.] 

Many  of  the  sentiments,  in  these  two  discourses  of  Bishop  But- 
iEH,  concerning  the  sovereign  good  of  man;  the  impossibility  of  pro- 
curing it  in  the  present  life;  the  unsatisfactoriness  o^  earthly  enjoy- 
ments; together  with  the  somewhat  beyond  and  above  them  all, 
which  once  attained,  the.e  will  rest  nothing  further  to  be  wished  or 
hoped;  and  which  is  thou  only  to  be  expected,  when  we  shall  have 
put  off  this  mortal  body,  and  our  union  with  God  shall  be  complete; 
occur  in  JIooiier''s  E'scicsiastical  Folity,  Book  1.  §  xi. 

Page  14.  [C]. 

"When  the  first  edition  of  this  Preface  was  published,  I  had  in  vain 
endeavored  to  procure  a  sight  of  the  papers,  in  v/hich  Bishop  But- 
2-ER  was  accused  of  having  died  a  papist,  and  Archbishop  Secker's 
replies  to  them;  though  I  well  remembered  to  have  read  both,  when 
they  first  appeared  in  the  public  prints.  But  a  learned  professor  in 
xhe  UKiversity  of  Oxford  has  furnished  me  with  the  whole  contro- 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  j29 

versy  in  its  original  form;  a  brief  history  of  which  it  may  not  be  un- 
acceptable to  offer  here  to  the  curious  reader. 

The  attack  was  opened  in  the  year  1767,  in  an  anonymous  pam^ 
phlet,  entitled  Tlie  Root  of  Protestant  Errors  examined;  in  which 
the  author  asserted,  that  "by  an  anecdote  lately  given  him,  that 
« some  Prelate,'  (who  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  is  called  B — p  of 
D — m)  is  said  to  have  died  in  the  communion  of  a  church,  that  makes 
use  of  saints,  saint  days,  and  all  the  trumpery  of  saint  worship." 
When  this  remarkable  fact,  now  first  divulged,  came  to  be  generally 
known,  it  occasioned,  as  might  be  expected,  no  little  alarm;  and  in- 
telligence of  it  was  no  sooner  conveyed  to  Archbishop  Secker,  than 
in  a  short  letter,  signed  Misopseudes^  and  printed  in  the  St.  James's 
Chronicle  of  May  9,  he  called  upon  the  writer  to  produce  his  author- 
ity for  publishing  "so  gross  and  scandalous  a  falsehood."  To  this  chal- 
lenge an  immediate  answer  was  returned  by  the  author  of  the  pam- 
phlet, who,  now  assuming  the  name  of  Fhileleutheros,  informed  Mi- 
sopsettdes,  through  the  channel  of  the  same  paper,  that "  such  anec- 
dote had  been  given  him;  and  that  be  was  yet  of  opinion  there  is  not 
any  thing  improbable  in  it,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  same  Pre- 
late put  up  the  popish  insignia  of  the  cross  in  his  chapel,  when  at 
Bristol;  and  in  his  last  episcopal  Charge  has  squinted  very  much 
towards  that  superstition."  Here  we  find  the  accusation  not  only 
repeated,  but  supported  by  reasons,  such  as  they  are;  of  which  it 
seemed  necessary  that  some  notice  should  be  taken:  nor  did  the  Arch- 
bishop conceive  it  unbecoming  his  own  dignity  to  stand  up,  on  this 
occasion,  as  the  vindicator  of  innocence  against  the  calumniator  of 
the  helpless  dead.  Accordingly,  in  a  second  letter  in  the  same 
newspaper  of  May  23,  and  subscribed  Misopseudes,  as  before,  after 
reciting  from  Bishop  Butler's  Sermon  before  the  Lords  the  very 
passage  here  printed  in  the  Preface,  and  observing  that  "  there  are, 
in  the  same  Sermon,  declarations,  as  strong  as  can  be  made,  against 
temporal  punishments  for  heresy,  schism,  or  even  for  idolatry,"  his 
Grace  expresses  himself  thus:  "  now  he  (Bishop  Butler)  was  uni- 
versally esteemed,  throughout  his  life,  a  man  of  strict  piety  and  hon- 
esty, as  well  as  uncommon  abilities.  He  gave  all  the  proofs,  public 
and  private,  which  his  station  led  him  to  give,  and  they  were  deci- 
sive and  daily,  of  his  continuing  to  the  last  a  sincere  member  of  the 
church  of  England.  Nor  had  ever  any  of  his  acquaintance,  or 
most  intimate  friends,  nor  have  they  to  this  day,  the  least  doubt 
ofJt."  As  to  putting  up  a  cross  in  his  chapel,  the  archbishop 
frankly  owns,  that  for  himself  he  wishes  he  had  not;  and  thinks 
that  in  so  doing  the  Bishop  did  amiss.  But  then  he  asks,  "  can  that 
be  opposed,  as  any  proof  of  popery,  to  all  the  evidence  on  the  other 
side;  or  even  to  the  single  evidence  of  the  above-mentioned  Sermon? 
Most  of  our  churches  have  crosses  upon  them:  are  they  therefore 
popish  churches?  The  Lutherans  have  more  than  crosses  in  theirs: 
are  the  Lutherans  therefore  papists?"  And  as  to  the  Charge,  no 
papist,  his  Grace  remarks,  would  have  spoken  as  Bishop  Butler 
there  does,  of  the  observances  peculiar  to  Roman  catholics,  some  of 
which  he  expressly  censures  as  wrong  and  superstitious,  and  others 
as  made  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  superstition,  and,  on  these  ac- 
counts, abolished  at  the  reformation.    After  the  publication  of  this 


^0  NOTES  TO  THE  PREFACE, 

Tetter,  Phileleutheros  replied  in  a  short  defence  of  his  own  conduct, 
but  Avithout  producing  any  thing  new  in  confirmation  of  what  he  had 
advanced.  And  here  the  controversy,  so  far  as  the  two  principals 
were  concerned,  seems  to  have  ended. 

But  the  dispute  was  not  suffered  to  die  away  quite  so  soon.  For 
in  the  same  year,  and  in  the  same  newspaper  of  July  21,  another 
letter  appeared;  in  which  the  author  not  only  contended  that  the 
cross  in  the  episcopal  chapel  at  Bristol,  and  the  charge  to  the  clergy 
of  Durham  in  1751,  amount  to  full  proof  of  a  strong  attachment  to 
the  idolatrous  communion  of  the  church  of  Rome,  but,  with  the  rea- 
der's leave,  he  would  fain  account  for  the  bishop's  "  tendency  this 
ivay."  And  this  he  attempted  to  do,  "  from  tlie  natural  melan- 
choly and  glodminess  of  I3r.  Butler's  disposition:  from  his  great 
fondness  for  the  lives  of  Romish  saints,  and  their  books  of  mystic 
piety;  from  his  drawing  his  notions  of  teaching  men  religion,  not 
tVom  the  New  Testament,  but  from  philosophical  and  political  opin- 
ions of  his  own;  and  above  all,  from  his  transition  from  a  strict  dis- 
senter amongst  the  prcsbyterians  to  a  rigid  churchman,  and  his  sud- 
den and  unexpected  elevation  to  great  wealth  and  dignity  in  the 
church."  The  attack  thus  renewed  excited  the  archbishop's  atten- 
tion the  second  time,  and  drew  from  him  a  fresh  answer,  subscribed 
also  Misopseiides,  in  the  St.  James's  Clironicle  oi'  August  4.  In  this 
letter  our  excellent  Metropolitan,  first  of  allobliquely  hinted  at  the 
nnfairness  of  sitting  in  judgment  on  the  character  of  a  man  who  had 
been  dead  fifteen  years,  and  then  reminded  his  correspondent,  that 
'•  full  proof  had  been  already  published,  that  Bishop  Buti.er  abhor- 
red popery  as  a  vile  corruption  of  Oliristianity,  and  that  it  might  be 
proved,  if  needful,  that  beheld  the  Fope  to  be  Antichrist,"  (to 
which  decisive  testimonies  of  undoubted  aversion  from  the  Romish 
cliurch  another  is  also  adtled  in  the  postscript,  his  taking,  when  pro- 
moted to  the  see  of  Durham,  for  his  domestic  cluplain.  Dr.  Nath. 
Forster,  who  had  published,  not  four  j'ears  before,  a  sermon,  entitled, 
Popery  dmtructive  of  the  evidence  nf  Christianity)  proceeds  to  ob- 
serve, '•  Tliat  the  natural  melancholy  of  the  Bishop's  temper  would 
rather  have  fixed  him  amongst  his  first  friends,  than  prompted  him 
to  t!ie  change  he  «iade:  that  he  read  books  of  all  sorts,  as  well  as 
books  of  mystic  piety,  ajid  knew  how  to  pick  the  good  that  was  in 
them  out  of  the  bad;  that  his  opinions  were  exposed  without  reserve 
in  his  Analogy  and  his  Sermons,  and  if  the  doctrine  of  either  be  po- 
pish or  unscriptura!,  the  learned  world  hath  mistaken  strangely  in 
admiring  botii:  that  instead  of  being  a  strict  dissenter,  he  never  was 
a  communicant  in  any  dissenting  assembly;  on  the  contrary,  that  he 
v.ent  occasionally,  from  his  early  years,  to  the  established  worship, 
and  becsimc  a  constant  conformist  to  it,  when  he  was  barely  of  age, 
and  entered  himself,  in  1714,  of  Oriel  College:  that  his  elevation  to 
^^reat  dignity  in  the  church,  far  from  being  sudden  and  unexpecteil, 
was  u  gradual  and  natural  rise,  through  a  variety  of  preferments,  and 
.1  peiiod  of  t'sirty  two  years:  that  as  bishop  of  Durham  he  bad  very 
httle  authority  beyond  his  brethren;  and  in  ecclesiastical  matters  had 
;  0!ie  beyond  them;  a  larger  income  than  most  of  them  he  had;  but 
•  'lis  he  employed,  not,  as  was  insinuated,  in  augmenting;  the  pomp  of 
v.'"':'!ip  in  his  rathedr;J;  where  indeed  i»  is  r.o  greater  than  in  others, 


'  BY  THE  EDITOR.  3\ 

but  for  the  purposes  of  charity,  and  in  the  repairine;  of  his  houses.^* 
After  these  remarks,  the  letter  closes  with  the  following  words; 
"  Upon  the  whole,  few  accusations,  so  entirely  groundless,  have  beea 
so  pertinaciously,  I  am  unwilling  to  say  maliciously,  carried  on,  as 
the  present;  and  surely  it  is  high  time  for  the  authors  and  abettors 
of  it,  in  mere  common  prudence,  to  shew  some  regard,  if  not  to 
truth,  at  least  to  shame." 

It  only  remains  to  be  mentioned,  that  the  above  letters  of  arch- 
bishop SECKKiihad  such  an  effect  on  a  writer,  who  signed  himself  in 
the  St.  James's  Chronicle.,  of  August  25,  »4  Dissenting  Minister^  that 
he  declared  it  as  his  opinion,  that  *'  the  author  of  the  pamphlet,  call- 
ed Tlie  Root  of  Protestant  JErrors  examined,  and  his  friends,  were 
obliged  in  candor,  in  justice,  and  in  honor,  to  retract  their  charge, 
unless  they  could  establish  it  on  much  better  grounds  than  had  hith- 
erto appeared:"  and  he  expressed  his  "  hopes  that  it  would  be  under- 
stood that  the  dissenters  in  general  had  no  hand  in  the  accusation, 
and  that  it  had  only  been  the  act  of  two  or  three  mistaken  men." 
Another  person  also,  "a  foreigner  by  birth,"  as  he  says  of  himself, 
who  had  been  long  an  admirer  of  Bishop  Butler,  and  had  perused 
with  great  attention  all  that  had  been  written  on  both  sides  in  the 
present  controversy,  confesses  he  had  been  "  v/onderfully  pleased 
with  observing,  v/ith  what  candor  and  temper,  as  well  as  clearness 
and  solidity,  he  was  vindicated  from  the  aspersions  laid  against  him." 
All  the  adversaries  of  our  prelate,  however,  had  not  the  virtue  or 
sense  to  be  thus  convinced;  some  of  whom  still  continued,  under  the 
signatures  of  Old  Martin,  Latimer,  Jin  Impartial  Protestant,  Pauii- 
mis,  Misonothos,  to  repeat  their  confuted  falsehoods  in  the  public 
prints;  as  if  the  curse  of  calumniators  had  fallen  upon  them,  and 
their  memory,  by  being  long  a  traitor  to  truth,  had  taken  at  last 
a  severe  revenge,  and  compelled  them  to  credit  their  own  lie.  The 
first  of  these  gentlemen,  Old  Martin,  vf\\o  dates  from  JV*-c-sf«e,  May 
29,  from  the  rancour  and  malignity  with  which  his  letter  abounds, 
and  from  the  particular  virulence  he  discovers  towards  the  characters 
of  Bishop  Butler  and  his  defender,  I  conjecture  to  be  no  other  than 
the  very  person  who  htid  already  figured  in  this  dispute,  so  early  as 
the  year  1752;  of  whose  work  entitled,  A  serious  inquiry  into  the 
use  and  importance  of  external  Religion,  the  reader  will  find  some 
account  in  the  notes  subjoined  to  the  bishop's  charge,  at  the  end  of 
this  volume. 

Page  15.  [D.] 

The  letters,  with  a  sight  of  which  I  was  indulged  by  the  favor  of 
our  present  most  worthy  Metropolitan,  are  all,  as  I  remember,  wrap- 
ped together  under  one  cover;  on  the  back  of  which  is  written,  in 
Archbishop  Secker's  own  hand,  the  following  words,  or  words  to 
this  effect,  Presumptive  arguments  that  Bishop  Bvtl^k  did  not  die  a 
Papist. 

Page  18.  [E.] 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  says  the  excellent  Dr.  T.  Balguy,*  "  to  dis- 
pute the  reality  of  a  moral  principle  in  the  human  heart.     I  /fc' 

•  Discourse  IS, 


32  NOTES  TO  THE  PREFACE, 

its  existence:  I  clearly  discern  its  use  and  importance.  But  in  no 
respect  is  it  more  important,  than  as  it  suggests  the  idea  of  a  moral 
Governor.  Let  this  idea  be  once  effaced,  and  the  principle  of  con- 
science will  soon  be  found  weak  and  ineffectual.  Its  influence  on 
men's  conduct  has,  indeed,  been  too  much  undervalued  by  some  phi- 
losophical inquirers.  But  be  that  influence,  while  it  lasts,  more  or 
less,  it  is  not  a  steady  and  permanent  principle  of  action.  Unhappi- 
ly we  always  have  it  in  our  power  to  lay  it  asleep. — J^eglect  alone 
will  suppress  and  stifle  it,  and  bring  it  almost  into  a  state  of  stupe- 
faction; nor  can  any  thing  less  than  the  terrors  of  religion  awaken 
our  minds  from  this  dangerous  and  deadly  sleep.  It  can  never  be 
matter  of  indifference  to  a  thinking  man,  whether  he  is  to  be  happy 
or  miserable  beyond  the  grave.'* 

Page  22.  [F.] 
The  ignorance  of  man  is  a  favorite  doctrine  with  Bishop  Butler. 
It  occurs  in  the  second  part  of  the  Analogy;  it  makes  the  subject  of  his 
fifteenth  Sermon;  and  we  meet  with  it  again  in  his  charge.  Whether 
sometimes  it  be  not  carried  to  a  length  which  is  excessive,  may  admit 
of  doubt. 

Page  22.  [G.J 

Admirable  to  this  purpose  are  the  words  of  Dr.  T.  lialgiiy,  in  the 
IXth  of  his  Discourses,  already  referred  to.  "The  doctrine  of  a  life 
to  come,  some  persons  will  say,  is  a  doctrine  o? natural  religion;  and 
can  never  therefore  be  properly  alleged  to  shew  the  importance  of 
revelation.  They  judge  perhaps  from  the  frame  of  the  world,  that 
the  present  system  is  imperfect:  they  see  designs  in  it  not  yet  cowi- 
pleted;  and  they  think  they  have  grounds  for  expecting  anof/ier  state, 
in  which  these  designs  shall  be  /arf/tgr  carried  on,  and  brought  to  a 
conclusion,  worthy  of  Infinite  Wisdom.  I  am  not  concerned  to  dis- 
pute the  justness  of  this  reasoning;  nor  do  I  wish  to  dispute  it.  But 
how  far  will  it  reach.''  Will  it  lead  us  to  the  Christian  doctrine  ol  a 
judgment  to  come.''  Will  it  give  us  the  prospect  of  an  eternity  of 
happiness.''  Nothing  of  all  this.  It  shews  us  only,  that  death  is  not 
the  end  of  our  beings;  that  we  are  likely  to  pass  hereafter  into  other 
systems,  more  favorable  than  the  present  to  the  great  ends  of  God's 
Providence,  the  virtue  and  the  happiness  of  his  intelligent  creatures. 
But  into  what  systems  we  are  to  be  removed:  what  new  scenes  are  to 
be  presented  to  us,  either  of  pleasure  or  pain;  what  new  parts  we 
shall  have  to  act,  and  to  what  trials  and  temptations  we  may  yet  be 
exposed;  on  all  these  subjects  we  know  just  nothing.  That  our  hap- 
piness for  ever  depends  on  our  conduct  here,  is  a  most  important 
proposition,  which  we  learn  only  from  revelation.'^ 

Page  23.  [H.] 

"In  the  common  affairs  of  life,  common  experience  is  sufficient  to 
direct  us.  But  will  common  experience  serve  to  guide  our  judgment 
concerning  the  fall  and  redemption  of  mankind?  From  what  we  see 
every  day,  can  we  explain  the  commencement,  or  foretel  the  dissolution 
of  the  world?  To  judge  of  events  like  these,  we  should  be  conversant 
in  the  history  of  other  planets;  should  be  distinctly  informed  of  God's 
various  dispensations  to  all  the  different  orders  of  rational  b"*' 


BY  THE  EDITOR.  33 

Instead  then  of  grounding  our  religious  opinions  on  what  we  call 
experience,  let  us  apply  to  a  more  certain  guide,  let  us  hearken  to  the 
testimony  of  God  himself.  The  credibility  of /iMnuin  testimony,  and 
the  conduct  of  human  agents,  are  subjects  perfectly  within  the  reach 
of  our  natural  faculties;  and  we  ought  to  desire  no  firmer  foundation 
for  our  belief  of  religion,  than  for  the  judgments  we  form  in  the  com- 
mon affairs  of  life;  whereas  we  see  a  little  plain  testimony  easily 
outweighs  the  most  specious  conjectures,  and  not  seldom  even  strong 
probabilities."  Dr.  Balguy's  4th  Char,ge.  See  also  an  excellentqiam- 
phlet,  entitled,  Remarks  on  Mr  Hume's  Essay  on  the  JVatural  His- 
tory of  Religion,  §  v.    And  the  6th  of  Dr.  Powell's  Discourses. 

Page  46.  [I]. 

Dr.  Arthur  Ashley  Sykes,  from  whose  writings  some  good  may 
be  collected  out  of  a  multitude  of  things  of  a  contrary  tendency,  in 
what  he  is  pleased  to  call  The  Scriptuxe  Doctrine  of  Redemption,* 
opposes  what  is  here  advanced  by  Bishop  Butler;  quoting  his  words, 
but  without  mentioning  his  name.  If  what  is  said  adbove  be  not 
thought  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  objections  of  this  author,  the  rea- 
der may  do  well  to  consult  a  charge  On  the  use  and  abuse  of  PhiloS' 
ophy  in  the  study  of  Religion,  by  the  late  Dr.  Powell,  who  seems  to 
me  to  have  had  the  observations  of  Dr.  Sykes  in  his  view,  where  he 
is  confuting  the  reasonings  of  certain  philosophizing  divines  against 
the  doctrine  of  the  atonement.  Powell's  Discourses,  Charge  III,  p. 
342—348. 

*  See  the  Observations  on  the  texts  citeQ  in  his  first  chapter,  and  also  in  chapters- the 
fifth  and  sixth. 

E 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


IF  the  reader  should  meet  here  with  any  thing  which  he  had  not 
before  attended  to,  it  will  not  be  in  the  observations  upon  the  consti- 
tution and  course  of  nature,  these  being  all  obvious,  but  in  the  appli- 
cation of  them;  in  which,  though  there  is  nothing  but  what  appears 
to  me  of  some  real  weight,  and  therefore  of  great  importance,  yet  he 
will  observe  several  things  which  will  appear  to  him  of  very  little,  if 
he  can  think  things  to  be  of  little  importance,  which  are  of  any  real 
weight  at  all  upon  such  a  subject  as  religion.  However,  the  proper 
force  of  the  following  treatise  lies  in  the  whole  general  analogy  con- 
sidered together. 

It  is  come,  I  know  not  how,  to  be  taken  for  granted  by  many  per- 
sons, that  Christianity  is  not  so  much  as  a  subject  of  inquiry,  but 
that  it  is  now  at  length  discovered  to  be  fictitious.  And  accordingly 
they  treat  it  as  if,  in  the  present  age,  this  were  an  agreed  point 
among  all  people  of  discernment,  and  nothing  remained  but  to  set  it 
up  as  a  principal  subject  of  mirth  and  ridicule,  as  it  were  by  way  of 
reprisals  for  its  having  so  long  interrupted  the  pleasures  of  the 
world.  On  the  contrary,  thus  much,  at  least,  will  be  here  found, 
not  taken  for  granted,  but  proved,  that  any  reasonable  man,  who  will 
thoroughly  consider  the  matter,  may  be  as  much  assured  as  he  is  of 
his  own  being,  that  it  is  not,  however,  so  clear  a  case  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it.  There  is,  I  think,  strong  evidence  of  its  truth;  but  it  is 
certain  no  one  can,  upon  principles  of  reason,  be  satisfied  of  the  con- 
trary. And  the  practical  consequence  to  be  drawn  from  this  is  not 
attended  to  by  every  one  who  is  concerned  in  it. 

May,  1736. 


XO  TBB 


RIGHT  HONORABLE 


CHABLES,  LORD  TALBOT, 

BARON  OF  HENSOL, 
LORD  HIGH  CHANCELLOR  OF    GREAT  BRITAIN^ 

THS  FOLLOWnrS 

TRE A  TISE 

IS,  WITH  ALL    RESPECT,  INSCRIBED, 

IN  ACKNOWLEDGEMENT  OF  THE  fflGHEST  OBUGATIONS 

TO  THE    LATE 

LORD  BISHOP  OF  DURHJM 

AND  TO  HIMSELF, 

iY   HIS  lordship's  MOST   DUTIFUL, 

MOST  DEVOTED, 

AND  MOST  HUMBLE  SERVANT, 

JOSEPH  BUTLER. 


COJSTTEJ^'TS, 


Introduction 

PART  I. 

aP  NATURAL  RELIGION. 

Page 

A  A 

Of  a  Future  Life 

CHAP.  I. 
CHAP,  n. 

44 

Of  the  Government  of  God  by  R»i\vards  and  Punishments; 
particularly  of  the  latter 

and 

56 

CHAP    III. 

Of  the  Moral  Government  of  God 

65 

CHAP    IV. 

Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  implying  Trial,  Difficulties  and 
Danger  7t 

CHAP.  V 

Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  intended  for  Moral  Discipline  and 
Improvement  83 

CHAP.  VI. 

Of  the  Opinion  of  Necessity,  considered  as  influencing  Practice      9* 

CHAP.  VII. 

Of  the  Government  of  God,  considered  as  a  scheme  er  Consti- 
tution, imperfectly  comprehended  107 

Conclusion  115 


PART  II. 

OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  importance  of  Christianity  119 


S8  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.  II. 

Of  the  supposed  Presumption  against  a  Revelation,,  considered 

as  miraculous  ISO 


CHAP.  III. 

Of  our  incapacity  of  judging,  what  were  to  be  expected  in  a 
Revelation;  and  the  Credibility,  from  Analogy,  that  it  must 
contain  Things  appearing  liable  to  Objections  1S5 

CHAP.  IV. 

Of  Christianity,  considered  as  a  Scheme  or  Constitution,  im- 
perfectly comprehended  144 

CHAP.  V. 

Of  the  particular  System  of  Christianity;  the  Appointment  of 
a  Mediator,  and  the  Redemption  of  the  World  by  him  149 

CHAP.  VI. 

Of  the  want  of  Universality  in  Revelation;  and  of  the  suppos- 
ed Deficiency  in  the  Proof  of  it  161 

CHAP.  VII. 

Of  the  particular  Evidence  for  Christianity  173 

CHAP.  VIII. 

Of  the  Objections  which  may  be  made  against  arguing  from 
the  Analogy  of  Nature  to  religion  195 

Conclusion  203 

DISSERTATION  I. 
OfPersonalldentity  211 

DISSERTATION  II. 

Of  the  Nature  of  Virtue  216 

A  Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  the  Diocese  of  Durham^  IT51  225 


INTRODUCTION 


PROBABLE  evidence  is  essentially  distinguished  from  demonstra- 
tive by  this,  that  it  admits  of  degrees;  and  of  all  variety  of  them, 
from  the  highest  moral  certainty,  to  the  very  lowest  presumption. 
We  cannot  indeed  say  a  thing  is  probably  true  upon  one  very  slight 
presumption  for  it,  because,  as  there  may  be  probabilities  on  both 
sides  of  a  question,  there  may  be  some  against  it;  and  though  there 
be  not,  yet  a  slight  presumption  does  not  beget  that  degree  of  convic- 
tion which  is  implied  in  saying  a  thing  is  probably  true.  But  that 
the  slightest  possible  presumption  is  of  the  nature  of  a  probability, 
appears  from  hence,  that  such  low  presumption,  often  repeated,  will 
amount  even  to  moral  certainty.  Thus  a  man's  having  observed  the 
ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  to-day,  affords  some  sort  of  presumption, 
though  the  lowest  imaginable,  that  it  may  happen  again  to-morro<V; 
but  the  observation  of  this  event  for  so  many  days,  and  months,  and 
ages  together,  as  it  has  been  observed  by  mankind,  gives  us  a  full 
assurance  that  it  will. 

That  which  chiefly  constitutes  probability  is  expressed  in  the  word 
likely,  i.  e*  likely  some  truth,*  or  true  event;  like  it,  in  itself,  in  its 
evidence,  in  some  more  or  fewer  of  its  circumstances.  For  when  we  de- 
termine a  thing  to  be  probably  true,  suppose  that  an  event  has  or  will 
come  to  pass,  it  is  from  the  mind's  remarking  in  it  a  likeness  to  some 
other  event,  which  we  have  observed  has  come  to  pass.  And  this 
observation  forms,  in  numberless  daily  instances,  a  presumption, 
opinion,  or  full  conviction,  that  such  event  l\as  or  will  come  to  pass, 
according  as  the  observation  is,  that  the  like  event  has  sometimes, 
most  commonly,  or  always  so  far  as  our  observation  reaches,  come 
to  pass  at  like  distances  of  time,  or  place,  or  upon  like  occasions. 
Hence  arises  the  belief  that  a  child,  if  it  lives  twenty  years  will  grow 
up  to  the  stature  and  strength  of  a  man;  that  food  will  contribute  to 
the  preservation  of  its  life,  and  the  want  of  it  for  such  a  number  of 
days,  be  its  certain  destruction.  So  likewise  the  rule  and  measure 
of  our  hopes  and  fears  concerning  the  success  of  our  pursuits;  our 
expectations  that  others  will  act  so  and  so  in  such  circumstances 
and  our  judgment  that  such  actions  proceed  from  such  principles; 
all  these  rely  upon  our  having  observed  the  like  to  what  we  hope, 
fear,  expect,  judge;  I  say  upon  our  having  observed  the  like,  either 

*  Yetisiraile, 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

with  respect  to  others  or  ourselves.  And  thus,  whereas  the  prince** 
who  had  always  lived  in  a  warm  climate,  naturally  concluded  in 
the  way  of  analogy,  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  water's  becom- 
ing hard,  because  he  had  always  observed  it  to  be  fluid  and  yielding; 
we  on  the  contrary,  from  analogy  conclude,  that  there  is  no  pre- 
sumption at  all  against  this;  that  it  is  supposable  there  may  be  frost 
in  England  any  given  day  in  January  next;  probable  that  there  will 
on  some  other  day  of  the  month;  and  that  there  is  a  moral  certainty, 
i.  c.  ground  for  an  expectation  without  any  doubt' of  it,  in  some  pait 
or  other  of  the  winter. 

Probable  evidence,  in  its  very  nature,  affords  but  an  imperfect 
kind  of  information,  and  is  to  be  considered  i^s  relative  only  to  beinus 
of  limited  capacities.  For  nothing  which  is  the  possible  object  of 
knowledge,  whether  past,  present,  or  future,  can  be  probable  to  an 
infinite  InleJiigence,  since  it  cannot  but  be  discerned  absolutely  as 
it  is  in  itself,  certainly  true,  or  certainly  fals*^  But  to  us,  probabil- 
ity is  the  very  guide  of  life. 

From  these  things  it  follows,  that  in  questions  of  difficulty,  or  such 
as  are  thought  so,  where  more  satisfactory  evidence  cannot  be  had, 
oris  not  seen;  if  the  result  of  examination  be,  that  there  appears 
upon  the  whole,  any  the  lowest  presumption  on  one  side,  and  none 
on  the  other,  or  a  greatest  presumption  on  one  side,  though  in  the 
lowest  degree  greater;  this  determines  the  question,  even  in  matters 
of  speculation;  and  in  matters  of  practice,  will  lay  us  under  an  abso- 
lute and  formal  obligation,  in  point  of  prudence  and  of  interest,  to 
act  upon  that  presumption  or  low  probability,  though  it  be  so  low  as 
to  leave  the  mind  in  very  great  doubt  which  is  the  truth.  For  surely 
a  man  is  as  really  bound  in  prudence  to  do  what  upon  the  whole 
appears,  according  to  the  best  of  his  judgment,  to  be  for  his  happi- 
ness, as  what  he  certainly  knows  to  be  so.  Nay,  further,  in  ques- 
tions of  great  consequence,  a  reasonable  man  will  think  it  concerns 
him  to  remark  lower  probabilities  and  presumptions  than  these:  such 
as  amount  to  no  more  than  showing  one  side  of  a  question  to  be  as 
supposable  and  credible  as  the  other;  nay,  such  as  but  amount  to 
much  less  even  than  this.  For  numberless  instances  might  be  men- 
tioned respecting  the  common  pursuits  of  life,  where  a  man  would 
be  thought,  in  a  literal  sense,  distracted,  who  would  not  act,  and 
with  great  application  top,  not  only  upon  an  even  chance,  but  upon 
much  less,  and  where  the  probability  or  chance  was  greatly  against 
his  succeeding! 

It  is  not  my  design  to  inquire  further  into  the  nature,  the  founda- 
tion, and  measure  of  probability;  or  whence  it  proceeds  that  llkenesh 
should  beget  that  presumption,  opinion,  and  full  conviction,  which 
the  human  mind  is  formed  to  receive  from  it,  and  which  it  does  neces- 
sarily produce  in  every  one;  or  to  guard  against  the  errors,  to  which 
reasoning  from  analogy  is  liable.  This  belongs  to  the  subject  of  logic; 
and  is  a  part  of  that  subject  which  has  not  yet  been  thoroughly  con- 
sidered. Inded  I  shall  not  take  upon  me  to  say,  how  far  the  extent, 
compass,  and  force  of  analogical  reasoning  can  be  reduced  to  general 
heads  and  rules,  and  the  whole  be  formed  into  a  system:  b'lt  though 

*  The  stoiy  is  told  by  Mr.  Locke  in  tl'e  Chapter  of  Probabilitr. 
t  See  Chop  vi.  Part  IL 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

so  little  in  this  way  has  been  attempted  by  those  who  have  treated  of 
our  intellectual  powers,  and  the  exercise  of  them,  this  does  not  hin- 
der but  that  we  may  be,  as  we  unquestionably  are  assured,  that  anal- 
ogy is  of  weight,  in  various  degrees,  towards  determining  our  judg- 
ment and  our  practice.  Nor  does  it  in  any  wise  cease  to  be  of  weight 
in  those  cases,  because  persons, either  given  to  dispute,  or  who  require 
things  to  be  stated  with  gteater  exactness  than  our  faculties  appear 
to  admit  of  in  practical  matters,  may  find  other  cases  in  which  it  is 
not  easy  to  say,  whether  it  be  or  not  of  any  weight;  or  instances  of 
seeming  analogies,  which  are  really  of  none.     It  is  enough  to  the 

S resent  purpose  to  observe,  that  this  general  way  of  arguing  is  cvi- 
ently  natural,  just,  and  conclusive.  For  there  is  no  man  can  make 
a  question  but  that  the  sun  will  rise  tomorrow;  and  be  seen,  where 
it  is  seen  at  all,  in  the  figure  of  a  circle,  and  not  in  that  of  a  square. 

Hence,  namely  from  analogical  reasoning,  Origen*  has  with  singu- 
lar sagacity  observed,  that/je  tvho  believes  the  Scripture  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  him  who  is  the  Author  of  nature,  may  well  expect  to 
find  the  same  sort  of  difficulties  in  it,  as  are  found  in  the  constitution 
of  nature.  And  in  a  like  way  of  reflection  it  may  be  added,  that  he 
who  denies  the  Scripture  to  have  been  from  God  upon  account  of 
these  diincultie9,  may,  for  the  very  same  reason,  deny  the  world  to 
have  been  formed  by  him.  On  the  other  hand,  if  there  be  an  analogy 
or  likeness  between  that  system  of  things  and  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence, which  i-evelation  informs  us  of,  and  that  system  of  things  and 
dispensation  of  Providence,  which  experience,  together  with  reason, 
informs  us  of,  i.  e.  the  known  course  of  nature;  this  is  a  presump- 
tion, that  they  have  both  the  same  author  and  cause;  at  least  so  fai* 
as  to  answer  objections  against  the  former's  being  from  God,  drawn 
from  any  thing  which  is  analogical  or  similar  to  what  is  in  the  latter, 
which  is  acknowledged  to  be  from  him;  for  an  Author  of  nature  is 
liere  supposed. 

Forming  our  notions  of  the  constitution  and  government  of  the 
world  upon  reasoning,  without  foundation  for  the  principles  which 
we  assume,  whether  from  the  attributes  of  God  or  any  thing  else,  is 
building  a  world  upon  hypothesis,  like  Des  Cartes.  Forming  our 
notions  upon  reasoning  from  principles  which  are  certain,  but  applied 
to  cases  to  which  we  have  no  ground  to  apply  them,  (like  those  who 
explain  the  structure  of  the  human  body,  and  the  nature  of  diseases 
and  medicines,  from  mere  mathematics,  without  sufficient  data)  is  an 
error  much  a-kin  to  the  former;  since  what  is  assumed  in  order  to 
make  tlie  reasoning  applicable,  is  hypothesis.  But  it  must  be  allowed 
just,  to  join  abstract  reasonings  with  the  observation  of  facts,  and  ar- 
gue from  such  facts  as  are  known,  to  others  that  are  like  them;  from 
that  part  of  the  divine  government  over  intelligent  creatures  which 
comes  under  our  view,  to  that  larger  and  more  general  government 
over  them,  which  is  beyond  it;  and  from  what  is  present,  to  collect 
what  is  likely,  credible,  or  not  incredible,  will  be  hereafter. 

The  method  then  of  concluding  and  determining  being  practical, 

*  Xpn  /ttfn  Tot  ye  rhv  «7r«|  7eccpx^(^ei(>uyoy  ru  Trrio-avTOi  to»  xoO'/m*  uiett  ruurxi 
T»i  y^xipoii  TTi'TirtiO'^ut ,  or<  oVa  vefi  rrfi  xrlu'eai  *«»-«»t«  tou  ^firvTi  tov  ^tfi 
ecurt^  ?\iyov,  rZvTgi  KXt  TTsfi  ray  yexfa*.      Philpcal.  P.  23.  Ed.  Cant, 

F 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

and  what,  if  ws  will  act  at  all,  we  cannot  but  act  upon  iu  the  conimou 
pursuits  of  life:  being  evidently  conclusive,  in  various  degrees,  pro- 
portionable to  the  degree  and  exactness  of  the  whole  analogy  or 
likeness;  and  having  so  great  authority  for  its  introduction  into  the 
subject  of  religirn,  even  revealed  religion;  my  design  is  to  apply  it  to 
that  subject  in  general,  both  natural  and  revealed;  taking  for  proved, 
that  there  is  an  intelligent  Author  of  nature,  and  natural  Governor 
of  the  world.  For  as  there  is  no  presumption  against  this  prior  to  the 
proof  of  it,  so  it  has  been  often  proved  with  accumulated  evidence^ 
from  this  argument  of  analogy  and  final  causes:  from  abstract  rea- 
sonings; from  the  most  ancient  tradition  and  testimony,  and  from 
the  general  consent  of  mankind.  Nor  does  it  appear,  so  far  as  I  can 
find,  to  be  denied,  by  the  generality  of  those  who  profess  themselves 
dissatisfied  with  the  evidence  of  religion. 

As  there  are  some,  who,  instead  of  thus  attending  to  what  is  in 
fact  the  constitution  of  nature,form  their  notions  of  God's  government 
upon  hypothesis;  so  there  are  others,  who  indulge  themselves  in  vain 
and  idle  speculations,  how  the  world  might  possibly  have  been  framed 
otherwise  than  it  is;-and  upon  supposition  that  things  might,  in  imag- 
ining that  they  should,  have  been  disposed  and  carried  on  after  a 
better  model  than  what  appears  in  the  present  disposition  and  con- 
duct of  them.  Suppose  now  a  person  of  such  a  turn  of  mind,  to  go  on 
with  his  reveries,  till  he  had  at  length  fixed  upon  some  particular  plan 
of  nature,  as  appearing  to  him  the  best;  one  shall  scarce  be  thought 
guilty  of  detraction  against  human  understanding,  if  one  should  say, 
even  beforehand,  that  the  plan  which  this  speculative  person  would 
fix  upon,  though  he  were  the  wisest  of  the  sons  of  men,  probably 
would  not  be  the  very  best,  even  according  to  his  own  notions  of  best; 
whether  he  thought  that  to  be  so,  which  afforded  occasions  and  motives 
for  the  exercise  of  the  greatest  virtue,  or  which  was  productive  of  the 
greatest  happiness,  or  that  these  two  were  necessarily  connected, 
and  run  up  into  one  and  the  same  plan.  However,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  once  for  all  to  see,  what  would  be  the  amount  of  these  emen« 
diations  and  imaginary  improvements  upon  the  system  of  nature,  or 
how  far  they  would  mislead  us.  And  it  seems  there  could  be  no 
stopping,  till  we  camti  to  some  such  conclusions  as  these:  that  ail 
creatures  should  at  first  be  made  as  perfect  and  as  happy  as  they  were 
capable  of  ever  being  that  nothing,  to  be  sure,  ot  hazard  or  danger 
should  be  put  upon  them  to  do;  some  indolent  persons  would  perhaps 
think  nothing  at  all;  or  certainly,  that  effectual  care  should  be  taken, 
that  tliey  should,  whi  ther  necessarily  or  not,  yet  eventually  and  in 
fact,  always  do  what  was  right  and  most  conducive  to  happiness, 
which  would  be  thought  easy  for  infinite  power  to  effect;  either  by 
not  giving  them  any  principles  which  would  endanger  their  going 
wrong,  or  by  laying  the  right  motive  of  action  in  every  instance  be- 
iore  their  minds  continually  in  so  strong  a  manner,  as  would  neve! 
fail  of  inducing  them  to  act  conformably  to  it;  and  that  the  whole 
method  of  government  by  punishments  should  be  rejected  as  absurd, 
as  an  awkward  round-about  method  of  carryii%  things  on;  nay,  a^ 
contrary  to  a  principal  purpose,  for  which  it  would  be  supposed  crea- 
tures were  made,  namely  happiness. 

Now,  without  considering  what  is  to  be  said  in  particular  to  tha 


INTRODUCTION.  4$ 

several  parts  of  this  train  of  folly  and  extravagance,  what  has  been 
above  intimated,  is  a  full,  direct,  general  answer  to  it,  namely,  that 
we  may  s«e  beforehand  that  we  have  not  faculties  for  this  luhd  of 
speculation.  For  though  it  be  admitted,  that  from  the  first  princi- 
ples of  our  nature,  we  unavoidably  judge  or  determine  some  ends  to 
be  absolutely  in  themselves  preferable  to  others,  and  that  the  ends 
now  mentioned,  or  if  they  run  up  into  one,  that  this  one  is  absolute- 
ly the  best;  and  consequently  that  we  must  conclude  the  ultimate 
end  designed,  in  the  constitution  of  nature  and  conduct  of  Provi- 
dence, is  the  most  virtue  and  happiness  possible:  yet  we  are  far  from 
being  able  to  judge,  what  particular  disposition  of  things  would  be 
most  friendly  and  assistant  to  virtue;  or  what  means  might  be  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  produce  the  most  happiness  in  a  system  of  such  ex- 
tent as  our  own  world  may  be,  taking  in  all  that  is  past  and  to  come, 
though  we  should  suppose  it  detached  from  the  whole  of  things.  In- 
deed we  are  so  far  from  being  able  to  judge  of  this,  that  we  are  not 
judges  what  may  the  necessary  means  of  raising  and  conducting  one 
person  to  the  highest  perfection  and  happiness  of  his  nature.  Nay, 
even  in  the  little  affairs  of  the  present  life,  we  find  men  of  different 
educations  and  ranks  are  not  competent  judges  of  the  conduct  of 
each  other.  Our  whole  nature  leads  us  to  ascribe  all  moral  perfec- 
tion to  God,  and  to  deny  all  imperfection  of  him.  And  this  will  for- 
ever be  a  practical  proof  of  his  moral  character,  to  such  as  will  con- 
sider what  a  practical  proof  is;  because  it  is  the  voice  of  God  Speak- 
ing in  us.  And  from  hence  we  conclude,  that  virtue  must' be  the 
happiness,  and  vice  the  misery  of  every  creature;  and  that  regulari- 
ty and  order  and  right  cannot  but  prevail  finally  in  a  universe 
under  his  government.  But  we  are  in  no  sort  judges,  what  are  the 
necessary  means  of  accomplishing  this  end. 

Let  us  then,  instead  of  that  idle  and  not  very  innocent  employment 
of  forming  imaginary  models  of  a  world,  and  schemes  of  governing 
it,  turn  our  thoughts  to  what  we  experience  to  be  the  conduct  of  na- 
ture with  respect  to  intelligent  creatures;  which  may  be  resolved  in- 
to general  laws  or  rules  of  administration,  in  the  same  way  as  many 
of  the  laws  of  nature  respecting  inanimate  matter  may  be  colh?cted 
from  experiments.  And  let  us  compare  the  known  constitution  a»id 
course  of  things,  with  what  is  said  to  be  the  moral  system  of  nature; 
the  acknowledged  dispensations  of  Providence,  or  that  government 
which  we  find  ourselves  under,  with  what  religion  teaches  to  believe 
and  expect;  and  see  whether  they,  are  not  analagous  and  of  a  piece. 
And  upon  such  a  comparison,  it  will  I  think  be  found,  that  they  are 
very  much  so;  that  both  may  be  traced  up  to  the  same  general  laws, 
and  resolved  into  the  same  principles  of  divine  conduct. 

The  analogy  here  proposed  to  be  considered  is  of  pretty  large  ex- 
tent, and  consists  of  several  parts;  in  some  more,  in  others  less  ex- 
act. In  some  few  instances,  perhaps,  it  may  amount  to  a  real  prac- 
tical proof;  in  others  not  so.  Yet  in  these  it  is  a  confirmation  of 
what  is  proved  other  ways.  It  will  undeniably  show,  what  too  many 
want  to  have  shown  them,  that  the  system  of  religion,  both  natural 
and  revealed,  considered  only  as  a  system,  and  prior  to  the  proof  of 
it,  is  not  a  subject  of  ridicule,  unless  that  of  nature  be  so  too.  And 
it  will  afford  an  answer  to  almost  all  objections  against  the  sye- 


44  INTRODUCTION. 

tern  both  of  natural  and  revealed  religion;  though  not  perhaps  an  an- 
swer in  so  great  a  degree,  yet  in  a  very  considerable  degree  an  an- 
swer to  the  objections  against  the  evidence  of  it:  for  objections 
against  a  proof,  and  objections  against  what  is  said  to  be  proved,  the 
reader  will  observe  are  different  things. 

Now  the  divine  government  of  the  world,  implied  in  the  notion  of 
religion  in  general  and  of  Christianity,  contains  in  it,-That  mankind 
is  appointed  to  live. in  a  future  state;*  that  there,  everyone  shall  be  re- 
■^varded  or  punished;!  rewarded  or  punished  respectively  for  all  that 
behaviour  here,which  we  comprehend  under  the  v/ords,  virtuous  or  vir 
cious,  morally  good  or  evil;|  that  our  present  life  is  a  probation,  a  state 
of  trial,§  and  of  discipline,!!  for  that  future  one;  notwithstanding  the 
objectionSjwhich  men  may  fancy  they  have,  from  notions  of  necessity, 
against  there  being  any  such  moral  plan  as  this  M.  a!!;**  and  what- 
ever objections  may  appear  to  lie  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  it,  as  it  stands  so  imperfectly  made  known  to  us  at  present:!!  that 
this  world  being  in  a  state  of  apostacy  and  v/ickedness,  and  conse- 
quently of  ruin,  and  the  sense  Jjoth  of  their  condition  and  d\ity  being 
greatly  corrupted  amongst  men;  this  gave  occasion  for  an  additional 
dispensation  of  Providence;  of  the  utmost  importance;!!  proved  by 
miracles:§§  but  containing  in  it  many,  things  appearing  to  us  strange 
and  not  to  have  been  expected;***  a  dispensation  of  Providence,which 
is  a  scheme  or  system  of  things;!!!  carried  on  by  the  mediation  of  a 
diving  person,  the  Messiah,  in  order  to  the  recovery  of  the  world;!!! 
yet  not  revealed  to  all  men,  nor  proved  wi^h  the  strongest  possible 
evidence  to  all  those  to  whom  it  is  revealed;  but  only  to  such  a  part 
of  mankind,  and  with  such  particular  evidence  as  the  wisdom  of 
God  thought  fit.§§^  The  design  then  of  the  fnllou'ing  Treatise  will 
be  to  shew,  that  the  several  parts  principally  objecfe*!  against  in  this 
moral  and  Christiaii  dispensation,  includinp;  its  sclicme,  its  publica- 
tion, and  the  proof  ivhich  God  has  afl'oided  us  of  its  truth;  that  the 
particular.parts  principally  objected  against  in  ti.is  whole  dispensa- 
tion, are  analagous  to  what  is  experienced  in  the  cimstitution  and 
course  of  nature,  or  providence;  tiiat  the  chi^f  objections  themsejv%s 
which  are  alleged  against  the  furmer,  are  no  other  than  what  may  be 
alleged  with  justness  against  the  latter,  where  they  are  found  in  fact 
to  be  inconclusive;  and  that  this  argument  from  analogy  is  in  gene- 
ral unanswerable,  and  undoubtedly  of  v/eight  *on  the  side  of  reli- 
gion,!l!l!|  notwithstanding  the  objections  which  may  seem  to  lie  against 
it,  and  the  real  ground  which  there  may  be  for  difterence  of  opinion, 
as  to  the  particular  degree  of  weight  which  is  to  be  laid  upon  it. 
This  is  a  general  account  of  what  may  be  looked  for  in  the  following 
Treatise;  and  I  shall  begin  it  with  that  which  is  the  foundation  of  all 
our  hopes  and  of  all  our  fears,  all.  our  hopes  and  fears  which  are  of 
any  consideration,  I  mean  a  future  life. 

**  Chap  J.        !  Chap,  ii-        t'Chap  iii.        §  Chap.  jv.        !)  Chap.  v. 

•*  Chap  vi.        frChap.  vii.        +t  Part  H  Chap  i         §§  Chap.  ii. 

^'I*  Chap.  li^.     tit^biip  iv.      +t+Chap.v.      §§§  Chap,  vi  vii.      fli!!  Chap.  viij. 


The 

ANALOGY  OF  RELIGION 

TO  THE 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  Q¥  NATURE, 


PART  I. 

OF  NATURAL  RELIGION. 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  a  Future  Life. 


STRANGE  difficulties  have  been  raised  by  some  concerning  per- 
sonal identity,  or  the  sameness  of  living  agents,  implied  in  the  notion 
of  our  existing  now  and  hereafter,  or  in  any  two  successive  moments; 
which,  whoever  thinks  it  worth  while,may  see  considered  in  the  first 
Dissertation  at  the  end  of  this  Treatise.  But  without  regard  to  any 
of  them  here,  let  us  consider  what  the  analogy  of  nature,  and  the 
several  changes  which  we  have  undergone,  and  those  which  we  know 
we  may  undergo  withbuttjeing  destroyed,  suggest,  as  to  the  effect 
which. death  may  or  may  not  have  upon  us;  and  whether  it  be  not 
from  thence  probable,  that  we  may  survive  this  change,  and  exist  in 
a  future  state  of  life  and  perception. 

I.  From  our  being  born  into  the  present  world  in  the  helpless  im- 
perfect state  of  infancy,  and  having  arrived  from  thence  to  mature 
age,  we  find  it  to  be  a  general  law  of  nature  in  our  own  species,  that 
the  same  creatures,  the  same  individuals,  should  exist  in  degrees  of 
life  and  perception,  with  capacities  of  action,  of  enjoyment  and  suf- 
fering, in  one  period  of  their  being,  greatly  different  from  those  ap- 
pointed them  in  another  period  of  it.  And  in  other  creatures  the 
same  law  holds.  For  the  difference  of  their  capacities  and  states  of 
life  at  their  birth  (to  go  no  higher)  and  in  maturity;  the  change  of 
worms  into  flies,  and  the  vast  enlargement  of  their  locomotive  powers 
by  such  change;  and  birds  and  insects  bursting  the  shell,  their  habi- 
tation, and  by  this  means  entering  into  a  new  world,  furnished  with 
new  a.ccommodations  for  them,  and  finding  a  new  sphere  of  action 
assigned  them;  these  are  instances  of  this  general  law  of  nature. 
Thus  all  the  various  and  wonderful  transformations  of  animals  are  to' 
be  taken  into  consideration  here.  But  the  states  of  life  in  which  we 
Qurselves  existed  formerly  in  the  womb  and  in  our  infancy,  are 
almost  as  different  from  our  present  in  mature  age,  as  it  is  possible 


415  Of  a  Future  Life.  Patt  I. 

to  eonceive  any  two  states  or  degrees  of  life  san  be.  Therefore,  that 
we  are  to  exist  hereafter  in  a  state  as  different  (suppose)  from  our 
present,  as  this  is  from  our  former,  is  but  according  to  the  analogy 
of  nature;  according  to  a  natural  order  or  appointment  of  the  very 
same  kind  with  what  we  have  already  experienced. 

II.  We  know  we  are  endued  with  capacities  of  action,  of  happi- 
ness and  misery;  for  we  are  conscious  of  acting,  of  enjoying  pleas* 
ure,  and  suffering  pain.  Now  that  we  have  these  powers  and  capa- 
tles  before  death,  is  a  presumption  that  we  shall  retain  them  through 
and  after  death;  indeed  a  probability  of  it  abundantly  sufficient  to 
act  upon,  unless  there  be  some  positive  reason  to  think  that  death  is 
the  destruction  of  those  living  powers;  because  there  is  in  every 
case  a  probability,  that  all  things  will  continue  as  we  experience 
they  are,  in  all  respects,  except  those  in  which  we  have  some  reason 
to  think  they  will  be  altered.  This  is  that  kind*  of  presumption  or 
probability  from  analogy,  expressed  in  the  very  word  continuance, 
which  seems  our  only  natural  reason  for  believing  the  course  of  the 
world  will  continue  tomorrow,  as  it  has  done  so  far  as  our  experience 
or  knowledge  of  history  can  carry  us  back.  Nay,  it  seems  our  only 
reason  for  believing  that  any  one  substance  now  existing  will  con- 
tinue to  exist  a  moment  longer,  the  self-existent  substance  only 
excepted.  Thus  if  men  were  assured  that  the  unknown  event,  death, 
was  not  the  destruction  of  our  faculties  of  perception  and  of  action, 
there  would  be  no  apprehension  that  any  other  power  or  event  uncon- 
nected with  this  of  death,  would  destroy  these  faculties  just  at 
the  instant  of  each  creature's  death,  and  therefore  no  doubt  but 
that  they  would  remain  after  it;  which  shows  the  high  proba- 
bility that  our  living  powers  will  continue  after  death,  unless  there 
be  some  ground  to  think  that  death  is  their  destruction.!  For, 
if  it  would  he  in  a  manner  certain  that  we  should  survive  death,  pro- 
vided it  were  certain  that  death  would  not  be  our  destruction,  it  must 
be  highly  prtbable  we  shall  survive  it,  if  there  be  no  ground  to  think 
death  will  be  our  destruction. 

Now,  though  I  think  it  must  be  acknawledged,  that  prior  to  the 
natural  and  moral  proofs  of  a  future  life  commonly  insisted  upon, 
there  would  arise  a  general  confused  suspicion,  that  in  the  great 
shock  and  alteration  which  we  shall  undergo  by  death,  we,  i.  e.  our 
Jiving  powers,  might  be  wholly  destroyed;  yet,  even  prior  to  those 
proofs,  there  is  really  no  particular  distinct  ground  or  reason  for  this 
apprehension  at  all,  so  far  as  I  can  find.  If  there  be,  it  must  arise 
either  from  the  reason  of  the  things  or  from  the  analogy  of  nature. 

•  I  say  kind  of  presumption  or  probability;  for  1  do  not  mean  to  affirm  that  there  is 
the  same  degree  of  conriction,  that  our  living  powers  will  continue  after  death,  as 
ihere  is,  that  our  substances  will. 

f  Destruction  of  Irving  powers,  is  a  manner  of  expression  unavoidably  ambiguous; 
and  may  signify  either  the  destruction  of  a  living  being,  so  as  that  the  same  living 
being  shall  be  uncapable  of  ever  pei-ceiving  or  actmg  again  at  all;  or,  the  destruction 
of  those  means  and  instruments  by  which  it  is  capable  of  its  present  life,  of  its  present 
•tate  of  perception  and  of  action.  It  is  here  used  in  the  former  sense.  When  it  is 
used  in  the  latter,  the  epithet  present  is  added.  The  loss  of  a  man's  eye,  is  a  destruc- 
tion of  living  powers  in  the  latter  sense.  But  we  have  no  reason  to  think  the  destruc- 
tion of  living  powers  in  the  former  sense,  to  be  possible.  We  have  no  more  reason  to 
think  a  l)ctng  endued  with  living  powers  ever  loses  them  during  its  whole  existence, 
than  to  b.  licve  that  a  stone  ever  acquires  them. 


Chap.  I.  Of  a  Future  Life.  47. 

But  wc  caunot  argue  from  the  reason  of  the  things  Hwat  death  is 
the  destruction  of  living  agents,  because  we  know  not  at  al!  what 
death  is  in  itself;  but  only  some  of  its  eftects,  such  as  the  dissolution 
of  flesh,  skin,  and  bones.  And  these  eifects  do  in  no  wise  appear  to 
imply  the  destruction  of  a  living  agent.  And  besit'es,  as  we  are 
greatly  in  the  dark,  upon  what  the  exercise  of  our  living  powers 
depends,  so  we  are  wholly  ignorant  what  the  powers  themselves 
depend  upon;  the  powers  themselves  as  distinguished,  not  only  from 
their  actual  exercise,  but  also  from  the  present  capacity  of  eKercising 
them;  and  as  opposed  to  their  destruction;  for  sleep,  or  however  a 
8woon,  shews  us,  not  only  that  these  powers  exist  when  they  are  not 
exercised,  as  the  passive  power  of  motion  does  in  inanimate  matter; 
but  shews  also  that  they  exist,  when  there  is  no  present  capacity  of 
exercising  them;  or  that  the  capacities  of  exercising  them  for  the 
present,  as  well  as  the  actual  exercise  of  them,  may  be  suspended, 
and  yet  the  powers  themselves  ren^ain  undestroyed.  Since  then  we 
know  not  at  all  upon  what  the  existence  of  our  living  powers  depends, 
this  shews  further,  there  can  no  probability  be  collected  from  the 
reason  of  the  thing,  that  death  will  be  their  destruction;  because 
their  existence  may  depend  upon  somewhat  in  no  degree  affected  by 
death,  upon  somewhat  quite  out  of  the  reach  of  this  king  of  terrors. 
So  that  there  is  nothing  more  certain,  than  that  the  reason  of  the 
thing  shews  us  no  connection  between  death,  and  the  destruction  of 
living  agents.  Nor  can  we  find  any  thing  throughout  the  whole 
analogy  of  nature,  to  afford  us  even  the  slightest  presumption,  that 
animals  ever  lose  their  living  powers;  much  less,  if  it  were  possible, 
that  they  lose  them  by  death;  for  we  have  no  faculties  wherewith  to 
trace  any  beyond  or  through  it,  so  as  to  see  what  becomes  of  them. 
This  event  removes  them  from  our  view.     It  destroys  the  sensible 

f>roof,  which  we  had  before  their  death,  of  their  being  possessed  of 
iving  powers,  but  does  not  appear  to  afford   the   least  reason  to 
believe  that  they  are,  then,  or  by  that  event,  deprived  of  them. 

And  our  knowing  that  they  were  possessed  of  these  powers,  up  to 
the  very  period  to  which  we  nave  faculties  capable  of  tracing  them,  is 
itself  a  probability  of  their  retaining  them  beyond  it.  And  this  is 
confirmed,  and  a  sensible  credibility  is  given  to  it,  by  observing  the 
very  great  and  astonishing  changes  which  we  have  experienced;  so 
great,  that  our  existence  in  another  state  of  life,  of  perception  and  of 
action,  will  be  but  according  to  a  method  of  providential  conduct,  the 
like  to  which  has  been  already  exercised  even  with  regard  to  our- 
selves; according  to  a  course  of  nature,  the  like  to  which  we  have 
already  gone  through. 

However,  as  one  cannot  but  be  greatly  sensible  how  difficult  it  is 
to  silence  imagination  enough  to  make  the  voice  of  reason  even  dis- 
tinctly heard  in  this  case;  as  we  are  accustomed,  from  our  youth  up, 
to  indulge  that  forward  delusive  faculty,  ever  obtruding  beyond  its 
sphere;  of  some  assistance  indeed  to  apprehension,  but  the  author  of 
all  error;  as  we  plainly  lose  ourselves  in  gross  and  crude  conceptions 
of  things,  taking  for  granted  that  we  are  acquainted  with  what  indeed 
we  are  wholly  ignorant  of;  it  may  be  proper  to  consider  the  imag- 
inary presumptions,  that  death  will  be  our  destruction,  arising  from 
these  kinds  of  early  and  lasting  prejudices;  and  to  shew  how  little 


48  Of  a  Future  Life.  Part  I. 

they  can  really  amount  to,  even  though  we  cannot  wholly  divest 
ourselves  of  them.     And, 

I.  All  presumption  of  death's  being  the  destruction  of  living 
beings,  must  go  upon  supposition  that  they  are  compounded,  and  so 
discerptible.  But  since  consciousness  is  a  single  and  indivisible 
power,  it  should  seem  that  the  subject  in  which  it  resides  must  be  so 
too.  For  were  the  motion  of  any  particle  of  matter  absolutely  one 
and  indivisible,  so  as  that  it  should  imply  a  contradiction  to  suppose 
part  of  this  motion  to  exist,  and  part  not  to  exist,  i.  e.  part  of  this  mat- 
ter to  move,  and  part  to  be  at  rest,  then  its  power  of  motion  would 
be  indivisible;  and  so  also  would  the  subject  in  which  the  power 
inheres,  namely,  the  particle  of  matter:  for  if  this  could  be  divided 
into  two,  one  part  m^ght  be  moved  and  the  other  at  rest,  which  is 
contrary  to  the  supposition.  In  like  manner  it  has  been  argued,* 
and,  for  any  thing  appearing  to  the  contrary,  justly,  that  since  the 
perception  or  consciousness,  which  we  have  of  our  own  existence,  is 
indivisible,  so  as  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose  one  part  of  it 
should  be  here  and  the  other  there,  the  perceptive  power,  or  the 
power  of  consciousness,  is  indivisible  too;  and  consequently  the  sub-  i 
ject  in  which  it  resides,  i.  e.  the  conscious  being.  Now  upon  sup- 
position that  living  agent  each  man  calls  himself,  is  thus  a  single 
being,  which  there  is  at  least  no  more  diflSculty  in  conceiving  than  in 
conceiving  it  to  be  a  compound,  and  of  which  there  is  the  proof  now 
mentioned,  it  follows,  that  our  organized  bodies  are  no  more  our- 
selves or  part  of  ourselves,  than  any 'other  matter  around  us.     And 

it  is  as  easy  to  conceive  how  matter,  which  is  no  part  of  ourselves, 
may  be  appropriated  to  us  in  the  manner  which  our  present  bodies 
are,  as  how  we  can  receive  impressions  from,  and  have  power  over  ^ 
any  matter.  It  is  as  easy  to  conceive  that  we  may  exist  out  of  bodies,  ^ 
as  in  them;  that  we  might  have  animated  bodies  of  any  other  organs 
and  senses  wholly  different  from  these  now  given  us,  and  that  we 
may  hereafter  animate  these  same  or  new  bodies  variously  modified 
and  organized,  as  to  conceive  how  we  can  animate  such  bodies  as 
our  present.  And  lastly,  the  dissolution  of  all  these  several  organ- 
ized bodies,  supposing  ourselves  to  have  successively  animated  them, 
would  have  no  more  conceivable  tendency  to  destroy  the  living 
beings  ourselves,  or  deprive  us  of  living  faculties,  the  faculties  of  per- 
ception and  of  action,  than  the  dissolution  of  any  foreign  matter, 
which  we  are  capable  of  receiving  impressions  from,  and  making  use 
of  for  the  common  occasions  of  life. 

II.  The  simplicity  and  absolute  oneness  of  a  living  agent  cannot, 
indeed,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  be  properly  proved  by  experi- 
mental observations.  But  as  these  fall  in  with  the  supposition  of  its 
unity,  so  they  plainly  lend  us  to  conclude  certainly,  that  our  gross 
organized  bodies,  with  which  we  perceive  the  objects  of  sense,  and 
with  which  we  act,  are  no  part  of  ourselves;  and  therefore  show  us, 
that  wc  have  no  reason  to  believe  their  destruction  to  be  ours,  even 
without  determining  whether  our  living  substances  be  material  or 
immaterial.  For  we  see  by  experience,  that  men  may  lose  their 
limbs,  their  organs  of  sense,  and  even  the  greatest  part  of  these 

*  Sec  Dr.  CliUrke's  Letter  to  Mr.  Dodwell,  and  the  defences  of  it 


Chap.  I.  Of  a  Future  Life,  49 

bodies,  and  yet  remain  the  same  living  agents.  And  persons  can 
trace  up  the  existence  of  themselves  to  a  time,  when  the  bulk  of  their 
bodies  was  extremely  small,  in  comparison  of  what  it  is  in  mature 
age;  and  we  cannot  but  think  that  they  might  then  have  lost  a  con- 
siderable part  of  that  small  body,  and  yet  have  remained  the  same 
living  agents;  as  they  may  now  lose  great  part  of  their  present  body, 
and  remain  so.  And  it  is  certain  that  the  bodies  of  all  animals  are 
in  a  constant  flux,  from  that  never  ceasing  attrition  which  there  is  in 
every  part  of  them.  Now  things  of  this  kind  unavoidably  teach  us 
to  distinguish  between  these  living  agents  ourselves,  and  large  quan- 
tities  of  matter,  in  which  we  are  very  nearly  interested;  since  these 
may  be  alienated,  and  actually  are  in  a  daily  course  of  succession, 
and  changing  their  owners;  whilst  we  are  assured,  that  each  living 
agent  remains  one  and  the  same  permanent  being.*  And  this  gen- 
eral observation  leads  us  on  to  the  following  ones. 

First,  That  we  have  no  way  of  determining  by  experience,  what 
is  the  certain  bulk  of  the  living  being  each  man  calls  himself;  and 
yet,  till  it  be  determined  that  it  is  larger  in  bulk  than  the  solid  ele- 
mentary particles  of  matter,  which  there  is  no  ground  to  think  any 
natural  power  can  dissolve,  there  is  no  sort  of  reason  to  think  death 
to  be  the  dissolution  of  it,  of  the  living  being,  even  though  it  should 
not  be  absolutely  indiscerptible. 

Secondly,  From  our  being  so  nearly  related  to  and  interested  in 
certain  systems  of  matter,  suppose  our  flesh  and  bones,  and  after- 
wards ceasing  to  be  at  all  related  to  them,  the  living  agents  our- 
selves remaining  all  this  while  undestroyed,  notwithstanding  such  al- 
ienation; and  consequently  these  systems  of  matter  not  being  our- 
selves, it  follows  further,  that  we  have  no  ground  to  conclude  anj 
other,  suppose  internal  systems  of  matter,  to  be  the  living  agents  our- 
selves; because  we  can  have  no  ground  to  conclude  this,  but  from 
our  relation  to  and  interest  in  such  other  systems  of  matter;  and 
therefore  we  can  have  no  reason  to  conclude,  what  befalls  those  sys- 
tems of  matter  at  death,  to  be  the  destruction  of  the  living  agents. 
We  have  already  several  times  over  lost  a  great  part  or  perhaps  the 
whole  of  our  body,  according  to  certain  common  established  laws  of 
nature,  yet  we  remain  the  same  living  agents;  when  we  shall  lose  as 
great  a  part,  or  the  whole,  by  another  common  established  law  of  na- 
ture, death,  why  may  we  not  also  remain  the  same?  That  the  alienation 
has  lieen  gradual  in  one  case,  and  in  the  other  will  be  more  at  once, 
does  not  prove  any  thing  to  the  contrary.  We  have  passed  unde- 
stroyed through  those  many  and  great  revolutions  of  matter,  so  pe- 
culiarly appropriated  to  us  ourselves;  why  should  we  imagine  death 
will  be  so  fatal  to  us.**  Nor  can  it  be  objected,  that  what  is  thus  alien- 
ated or  lost,  is  no  part  of  our  original  solid  body,  but  only  adventitious 
matter;  because  we  may  lose  entire  limbs,  which  must  have  contain- 
ed many  solid  parts  and  vessels  of  the  original  body;  or  if  this  be 
not  admitted,  we  have  no  proof,  that  any  of  these  solid  parts  are  dis- 
solved or  alienated  by  death.  Though,  by  the  way,  we  are  very 
nearly  related  to  that  extraneous  or  adventitious  matter,  whilst  it 
continues  united  to  and  distending  the  several  parts  of  our  solid 

*  See  DJsseitation  % 
G 


50  OJ  a  Future  Life.  Faut  L 

body.  But  after  all,  the  relation  a  person  bears  to  those  parts  of  his 
body  to  which  he  is  the  most  nearly  related,  what  does  it  appear  to 
amount  to  but  this,  that  the  living  agent  and  those  parts  of  the  body 
mutually  aftect  each  other?  And  the  same  thing  in  kind,  though  not 
in  degree,  may  be  said  of  all  foreign  matter,  wliich  gives  us  ideas, 
and  which  we  have  any  power  over.  From  these  observations,  the 
whole  ground  of  the  imagination  is  removed,  that  the  dissolution  of 
any  matter  is  the  destruction  of  a  living  agent  from  the  interest  he 
once  had  in  such  matter. 

Thirdly^  if  we  consider  our  body  somewhat  more  distinctly,  as  made 
uporor'^ins  and  instruments  of  perception  and  of  motion, it  will  bring 
us  to  tlie  same  conclusion.  Thus  the  common  optical  experiments 
show,  and  even  the  observation  how  sight  is  assisted  by  glasses  shows, 
that  we  see  with  our  eyes  in  the  same  sense  as  we  see  with  glasses. 
Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  believe,  that  we  see  with  them  in  any  other 
sense;  any  other,  I  mean,  which  would  lead  us  to  think  the  eye  itself  a 
percipient.  The  like  is  to  be  said  of  hearing;  andour  feeling  distant  sol- 
id matter  by'means  of  somewhat  in  our  hand,  seems  an  instance  of  the 
kind  as  to  the  subject  we  are  considering.  All  these  are  instances 
of  foreign  matter,  or  such  as  is  no  part  of  our  body  being  instrumen- 
tal in  preparing  objects  for,  and  conveying  them  to  the  perceiving 
power,  in  a  manner  similar  or  like  to  the  manner  in  which  our  or- 
gans of  sense  prepare  and  convey  them.  Both  are  in  a  like  way  in- 
struments of  our  receiving  such  ideas  from  external  objects,  as  the 
Author  of  nature  appointed  those  external  objects  to  be  the  occasions 
of  exciting  in  us.  However,  glasses  are  evidently  instances  of  this; 
namely  of  matter  which  is  no  part  of  our  body,  preparing  objects  for 
and  conveying  them  towards  the  perceiving  power,  in  like  manner  as 
our  bodily  organs  do.  And  if  we  see  with  our  eyes  only  in  the  same 
manner  as  we  do  with  glasses,  the  like  may  justly  be  concluded,  from 
analogy,  of  all  our  other  senses.  It  is  not  intended,  by  any  thing  here 
said,  to  affirm,  that  the  whole  apparatus  of  vision,  or  of  perception 
by  any  other  of  our  senses,  can  be  traced,  through  all  its  steps,  quite 
up  to  the  living  power  of  seeing,  or  perceiving;  but  that  so  far  as  it 
can  be  traced,  by  experimental  observations,  so  far  it  appears,  that 
our  organs  of  sense  prepare  and  convey  on  objects,  in  order  to  their 
being  perceived,  in  like  manner  as  foreign  matter  does,  without  afford- 
ing  any  shadow  of  appearance  that  they  themselves  perceive.  And  that 
we  have  no  reason  to  think  our  organs  of  sense  percipients,  is  con- 
firmed by  instances  of  persons  losing  some  of  them,  the  living  beings 
themselves,  their  former  occupiers,  remaining  unimpaired.  It  is  con- 
fumed  also  by  the  experience  of  dreams;  by  which  we  find  we  are  at 
present  possessed  of  a  latent,  and  what  would  otherwise  be,  an  un- 
imagined,  unknown  power  of  perceiving  sensible  objects,  in  as  strong 
and  lively  a  manner  without  our  external  organs  of  sense  as  with 
them. 

So  also  with  regard  to  our  power  of  moving,  or  directing  motion 
by  will  and  choice:  upon  the  destruction  of  a  limb,  this  active  pow- 
er remains,  as  it  evidently  seems,  unlessened;  so  as  that  the  living 
being,  who  has  suffered  this  loss,  would  be  capable  of  moving  as  be- 
fore, if  it  had  another  limb  to  move  with.  It  can  walk  by  the  help  of 
an  artificial  leg;  just  as  it  can  make  use  of  a  pole  or  a  leaver,  to  reach 


Chap.  I.  Of  a  Future  Life.  ji 

towards  itself,  and  to  move  things,  beyond  the  length  and  the  power 
of  its  natural  arm;  and  this  last  it  does  in  the  same  manner  as  it 
reaches  and  moves,  with  its  natural  arm,  things  nearer  and  of  less 
weight.  Nor  is  there  so  mucii  as  any  appearance  of  our  limbs  being 
endued  with  a  power  of  moving  or  directing  themselves,  though  they 
are  adapted,  like  the  several  parts  of  a  machine,  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  motion  to  each  other,  and  some  parts  of  the  same  limb,  to 
be  instruments  of  motion  to  other  parts  of  it. 

Thus  a  man  determines,  that  he  will  look  at  such  an  object  through 
a  microscope;  or  being  lame  suppose,  that  he  will  walk  to  such  a 
place  with  a  staff*  a  week  hence.  His  eyes  and  his  feet  no  more  de- 
termine in  these  cases,  than'the  microscope  and  the  staff'.  Nor  is 
there  any  ground  to  think  they  any  more  put  the  determination 
in  practice;  or  that  his  eyes  are  the  seers  or  his  feet  the  movers, 
in  any  other  sense  than  as  the  microscope  and  the  staff"  are. 
Upon  the  whole  then,  our  organs  of  sense  and  our  limbs  are  certain- 
ly instruments,  which  the  living  persons  ourselves  make  use  of  to 
perceive  and  move  with;  there  is  not  any  probability  that  they  are  any 
more,  nor  consequently,  that  we  may  have  any  other  kind  of  relation 
to  them,  than  what  we  have  to  any  other  foreign  matter  formed  into 
instruments  of  perception  and  motion,  suppose  into  a  microscope  or 
a  staff;  (I  say  any  another  kind  of  relation,  for  I  am  not  speaking 
of  the  degree  of  it)  nor  consequently  is  there  any  probability,  that 
the  alienation  or  dissolution  of  these  instruments  is  the  destruction 
of  the  perceiving  and  moving  agent. 

And  thus  our  finding,  that  the  dissolution  of  matter,  in  which  liv- 
ing beings  were  most  nearly  interested,  is  not  their  dissolution,  and 
that  the  destruction  of  several  of  the  organs  and  instruments  of  per- 
ception and  of  motion  belonging  to  them,  is  not  their  destruction, 
shows  demonstratively,  that  there  is  no  ground  to  think  that  the  dis- 
solution of  any  other  matter,  or  destruction  of  any  other  organs  and 
instruments,  will  be  the  dissolution  or  destruction  of  living  agents, 
from  the  like  kind  of  relation.  And  we  have  no  reason  to  think  we 
stand  in  any  other  kind  of  relation  to  any  thing  which  we  find  dis- 
solved by  death. 

But  it  is  said  these  observations  are  equally  applicable  to  brutes; 
and  it  is  thought  an  insuperable  difficulty,  that  they  should  be  immor- 
tal, and  by  consequence  capable  of  everlasting  happiness.  Now  this 
manner  of  expression  is  both  invidious  and  weak;  but  the  thing  in- 
tended by  it,  is  really  no  difficulty  at  all,  either  in  the  way  of  natural 
or  moral  consideration.  For  first,  suppose  the  invidious  thing,  de- 
signed in  such  a  manner  of  expression,  were  really  implied,  as  it  is 
not  in  the  least  in  the  natural  immortality  of  brutes;  namely,  that 
they  must  arrive  at  great  attainments,  and  become  rational  and  mor- 
al agents;  even  this  would  be  no  difficulty,  since  we  know  not  what 
latent  powers  and  capacities  they  may  be  endued  with.  There  was 
once,  prior  to  experience,  as  great  presumption  against  human  crea- 
tures, as  there  is  against  the  brute  creatures,  arriving  at  tiiat  degree 
of  understanding,  which  we  have  in  mature  age.  For  we  can  trace 
up  our  own  existence  to  the  same  original  with  theirs.  And  we  find 
it  to  be  a  general  law  of  nature,  that  creatures  endued  with  capaci- 
ties of  virtue  and  religion,  should  be  placed  in  a  condition  of  beingj 


Sfe  Of  a  Future  Life.  Part  I. 

in  which  they  are  altogether  without  the  use  of  them,  for  a  consider- 
able length  of  their  duration;  as  infancy  and  childhood.  And  great 
part  of  the  human  species  go  out  of  the  present  world,  before  they 
come  to  the  exercise  of  these  capacities  in  any  degree  at  all.  But 
then,  secondly,  the  natural  immortality  of  brutes  does  not  in  the 
least  imply,  that  they  are  endued  with  any  latent  capacities  of  a  ra- 
tional or  moral  nature.  And  the  economy  of  the  universe  might  re- 
quire, that  there  should  be  living  creatures  without  any  capacities  of 
this  kind.  And  all  difficulties  as  to  the  manner  how  they  are  to 
be  disposed  of,  are  so  apparently  and  wholly  fctunded  in  our  igno- 
rance, that  it  is  wonderful  they  should  be  insisted  upon  by  any,  but 
such  as  are  weak  enough  to  think  they  are  acquainted  with  the  whole 
system  of  things.  There  is  then  absolutely  nothing  at  all  in  this  ob- 
jection which  is  so  rhetorically  urged  against  the  greatest  pat  of  the 
natural  proofs  or  presumptions  of  the  immortality  of  human  mindsj 
I  say  the  greatest  part;  for  it  is  less  applicable  to  the  following  ob- 
servation, which  is  more  peculiar  to  mankind: 

III.  That  as  it  is  evident  our  present  powers  and  capacities  of  rea- 
son, memory  and  affection,  do  not  depend  upon  our  gross  body  in  the 
manner  in  which  perception  by  our  organs  of  sense  does;  so  they 
do  not  appear  to  depend  upon  it  at  all  in  any  such  manner,  as 
to  give  ground  to  think,  that  the  dissolution  of  this  body,  will  be  the 
destruction  of  these  our  present  powers  of  reHection,  as  it  will  of 
our  powers  of  sensation;  or  to  give  ground  to  conclude  even  that  it 
will  be  so  much  as  a  suspension  of  the  former. 

Human  creatures  exist  at  present  in  two  states  of  life  and  percep- 
tion, greatly  different  from  each  other:  each  of  which  had  its  own  pe- 
culiar laws,  and  its  own  peculiar  enjoyments  and  sufferings.  When 
any  of  our  senses  are  affected  or  appetites  gratified  with  the  objects 
of  them,  we  may  be  said  to  exist  or  live  in  a  state  of  sensation. 
"When  none  of  our  senses  are  affected  or  appetites  gratified,  and  yet  we 
perceive  and  reason  and  act,  we  may  be  said  to  exist  or  live  in  a  state 
of  reflection.  Now  it  is  by  no  means  certain,  that  any  thing  which 
js  dissolved  by  death,  is  any  way  necessary  to  the  living  being  in  this 
its  state  of  reflection,  after  ideas  are  gained.  For,  though  from  our 
present  constitution  and  condition  of  being,  our  external  organs  of 
sense  are  necessary  for  conveying  in  ideas  to  our  reflecting  powers 
as  carriages  and  leavers  and  scaffolds  arc  in  architecture;  yet  when 
these  ideas  are  brought  in,  we  are  capable  of  reflecting  in  the  most 
intense  degree,  and  of  enjoying  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  feeling  the 
greatest  pain  by  means  of  that  reflection,  without  any  assistance 
Ironi  our  senses;  and  without  any  at  all,  which  we  know  of,  from 
that  body  which  will  be  dissolved  hy  death.  It  does  not  appear  then, 
that  the  relation  of  this  gross  body  to  the  reflecting  being,  is,  in  any 
degree,  necessary  to  thinking;  to  our  intellectual  enjoynieuts  or  suf- 
ferings: nor,  consequently,  that  the  dissolution  or  alienation  of  the 
former  by  death,  will  be  the  destruction  of  those  present  powers, 
which  render  us  capable  oJ"  this  state  of  reflection.  Farther,  there 
are  instances  of  mortal  diseases,  which  do  not  at  all  affect  our  pres- 
ent intellectual  powers;  and  this  affords  a  presumption,  that  those 
disease'^  will  not  destroy  these    present  powers.      Indeed,   froir^ 


Chap.  I.  Of  a  Future  Life.  SS 

the  observations  made  above,*  it  appears,  that  there  is  no  pre- 
sumption, from  their  mutually  affecting  each  other,  that  the  dis- 
solution of  the  body  is  the  destruction  of  the  living  agent. 
And  by  the  same  reasoning,  it  must  appear  too,  that  there  is  no 
presumption,  from  their  mutually  affecting  each  other,  that  the  disso- 
lution of  the  body  is  the  destruction  of  our  present  reflecting  pow- 
ers; but  instances  of  their  not  affecting  each  other,  afford  a  presump- 
tion of  the  contrary.  Instances  of  mortal  diseases  not  impairing  our 
present  reflecting  powers,  evidently  turn  our  thoughts  even  from  im- 
agining such  diseases  to  be  the  destruction  of  them.  Several  things 
indeed  greatly  affect  all  our  living  powers,  and  at  length  suspend 
the  exercise  of  them;  as  for  instance  drowsiness,  increasing  till  it 
ends  in  sound  sleep;  and  from  hence  we  might  have  imagined 
it  would  destroy  them,  till  we  found  by  experience  the  weakness  of 
this  way  of  judging.  But  in  the  diseases  now  mentioned,  there  it 
not  so  much  as  this  shadow  of  probability,  to  lead  us  to  any  such 
conclusion,  as  to  the  reflecting  powers  which  we  have  at  present; 
for  in  those  diseases,  persons  the  moment  before  death  appear  to  be 
in  the  highest  vigor  of  life;  they  discover  apprehension,  memory, 
reason,  all  entire;  with  the  utmost  force  of  affection;  sense  of  a  char- 
acter, of  shame  and  honor;  and  the  highest  mental  enjoyments  and 
sufferings,  even  to  the  last  gasp:  and  these  surely  prove  even  greater 
vigor  of  life  than  bodily  strength  does:  Now  what  pretence  is  there 
for  thinking,  that  a  progressive  disease  when  arrived  to  such  a  de- 
gree, 1  mean  that  degree  which  is  mortal,  will  destroy  those  powers 
which  were  not  impaired,  which  were  not  affected  by  it,  during  its 
whole  progress  quite  up  to  that  degree.'*  And  if  death,  by  diseases 
of  this  kind,  is  not  the  destruction  of  our  present  reflecting  powers, 
it  will  scarce  be  thought  that  death  by  any  other  means  is. 

It  is  obvious  that  this  general  observation  may  be  carried  on  fur- 
ther; and  there  appears  so  little  connexion  between  our  bodily  pow- 
ers of  sensation,  and  our  present  powers  of  reflection,  that  there  is 
no  reason  to  conclude,  that  death,  which  destroys  the  former,  does 
so  much  as  suspend  the  exercise  of  the  latter,  or  interrupt  our  con- 
tinuing to  exist  in  the  like  state  of  reflection  which  we  do  now.  Foi 
suspension  of  reason,  memory  and  the  affections  which  they  excite, 
is  no  part  of  the  idea  of  death,  nor  is  implied  in  our  notion  of  it. 
And  our  daily  experiencing  these  powers  to  be  exercised,  without 
any  assistance;  that  we  know  of,  from  tliose  bodies,  which  will  be 
dissolved  by  death;  and  our  flndiog  often  that  the  exercise  of  them 
is  so  lively  to  the  last;  these  things  afford  a  sensible  apprehension, 
that  death  may  not  perhaps  be  so  much  as  a  discontinuance  of  the 
exercise  of  these  powers,  nor  of  the  enjoyments  and  sufferings  which 
it  implies.!  So  that  our  posthumous  life,  whatever  there  may  be  in 
it  additional  to  our  present,  yet  may  not  be  entirely  beginning  anew, 

•  p.  49,  50. 
j- There  are  three  distinct  questions,  relating  to  a  future  lite,  here  considered: — 
whether  death  be  the  destruction  ot  living  agents;  if  not,  whether  it  be  the  destruc 
lion  ot  their  present  powers  of  reflection,  as  it  certainly  is  the  destruction  of  their  pres- 
ent powers  of  sensation;  and  if  not,  whether  it  be  the  supension,  or  discontinuance  of  the 
exercise,  of  these  present  reflecting  powers.  Nt)w,  if  there  be  no  reason  to  believe 
the  last,  there  will  be,  if  that  were  possible,  less  for  the  next,  and  less  still  for  the  first. 


i4  Of  a  Future  Life.  Part  I. 

but  going  on.  Death  may,  in  some  sort,  and  in  some  respects,  an- 
swer to  our  birtlij  which  is  not  a  suspension  of  the  faculties  which 
we  had  before  it,  or  a  total  change  of  the  state  of  life  in  which  we 
existed  when  in  the  womb;  but  a  continuation  of  both  with  such  and 
such  great  alterations. 

Nay,  for  what  we  know  of  ourselves,  of  our  present  life  and  of 
death,  death  may  immediately,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  put 
us  into  a  higher  and  more  enlarged  state  of  life,  as  our  birth  does;* 
a  state  in  which  our  capacities  and  sphere  of  perception  and  of  ac- 
tion may  be  much  greater  than  at  present.  For  as  our  relation  to  our 
external  organs  of  sense  renders  us  capable  of  existing  in  our  present 
state  of  sensation,  so  it  may  be  the  only  natural  hindrance  to  our  ex- 
isting, immediately  and  of  course,  in  a  higher  state  of  reflection.  The 
truth  is,  reason  does  not  at  all  shew  us  in  what  state  death  naturally 
leaves  us.  But  were  we  sure  that  it  would  suspend  all  our  percep- 
tive and  active  powers,  yet  the  suspension  of  a  power  and  the  de- 
struction of  it  are  effects  so  totally  different  in  kind,  as  we  experi- 
ence from  sleep  and  a  swoon,  that  we  cannot  in  any  wise  argue  from 
one  to  the  other,  or  conclude,  even  to  the  lowest  degree  of  probabil- 
ity, that  the  same  kind  of  force  which  is  sufficient  to  suspend  our  fac- 
ulties, though  it  be  increased  ever  so  much,  will  be  sufficient  to  de- 
stroy them. 

These  observations  together  may  be  sufficient  to  shew,  how  little 
presumption  there  is,  that  death  is  the  destruction  of  human  crea- 
tures. However,  there  is  the  shadow  of  analogy  which  may  lead  us 
to  imagine  it  is;  the  supposed  likeness  which  is  observed  between  the 
decay  of  vegetables;  and  of  living  creatures.  And  this  likeness  is 
Indeed  sufficient  to  afford  the  poets  very  apt  allusions  to  the  flowers 
of  the  field,  in  their  pictures  of  the  frailty  of  our  present  life.  But  in 
reason,  the  analogy  is  so  far  from  holding,  that  there  appears  no 
ground  even  for  the  comparision,  as  to  the  present  question;  because 
one  of  the  two  subjects  compared  is  wholly  void  of  that,  which  is 
the  principal  and  chief  thing  in  the  other,  the  power  of  perception 
and  of  action,  and  which  is  the  only  thing  we  are  inquiring  about 
the  continuance  of;  so  that  the  destruction  of  a  vegetable  is  an  event 
not  similar  or  analagous  to  the  destruction  of  a  living  agent. 

But  if,  as  was  above  intimated,  leaving  off  the  delusive  custom  of 
substituting  imagination  in  the  room  of  experience,  we  would  con- 
fine ourselves  to  what  we  do  know  and  understand,  if  we  would  ar- 
gue only  from  that,  and  from  that  form  our  expectations,  it  would  ap- 
pear at  first  sight,  that  as  no  probability  of  living  beings  ever  ceas- 
ing to  be  so,  can  be  concluded  from  the  reason  of  the  thing,  so  none 
can  be  collected  from  the  analogy  of  nature,  because  we  cannot  trace 
any  living  beings  beyond  death.  But  as  we  are  conscious  that  we 
are  endued  with  capacities  of  perception  and  of  action,  and  are  liv- 

*  This,  according  to  Strabo,  wsiS  the  opinion  of  the  Braehmans, 

9'etvxTov,  ■y)vi(rtv  tJi  to>  ovrwi  jS/ov,  y-x)  rot  ii)^'.<-tu.ovee  Toii  (ptMTO^rtO'ot.iri . 
Lib.  XV,  p.  1039.  Ed.  Amst.  1707.  Tx)  which  opinion  perhaps  Anto- 
ninus may  allude  in  these  words,  am  vuv  -is-e^if/.ivsi^,  ttoti  'if*.tovo]i  Ik  t^s 

e-H  Ttt  h.6r^H  Tssra  iKTn.a-i'trctt,      Lib.  IX,  C.   3. 


L         Chap.  I.  Of  a  Future  Life.  55 

idg  persons,  what  we  are  to  go  upon  is,  that  we  shall  continue  so, 
until  we  foresee  some  accident  or  event  which  will  endanger  those 
capacities,  or  be  likely  to  destroy  us;  which  death  does  in  no  wise 
appear  to  be. 

And  thus,  when  we  go  out  of  this  world,  \\t  may  pass  into  new 
scenes,  and  a  new  state  of  life  and  action,  just  as  naturally  as  we 
came  into  the  present.  And  this  new  state  may  naturally  be  a  so- 
cial one.  And  the  advantages  of  it,  advantages  of  every  kind,  may 
naturally  be  bestowed,  according  to  some  fixed  general  laws  of  wis- 
dom, upon  every  one  in  proportion  to  the  degrees  of  his  virtue. 
And  though  the  advantages  of  that  future  natural  state,  should  not 
be  bestowed,  as  these  of  the  present  in  some  measure  are,  by  the  will 
of  the  society,  but  entirely  by  his  more  immediate  action,  upon 
whom  the  whole  frame  of  nature  depends;  yet  this  distribution  may 
be  just  as  natural  as  there  being  distributed  hereby  the  instrumental- 
ity of  men.  And  indeed,  though  one  were  to  allow  any  confused 
undetermined  sense,  which  people  please  to  put  upon  the  word  natu- 
ral, it  would  be  a  shortness  of  thought  scarce  credible,  to  imagine 
that  no  system  or  course  of  things  can  be  so,  but  only  what  we  see 
at  prese»t;  especially  whilst  the  probability  of  a  future  life,  or  the 
natural  immortality  of  the  soul,  is  admitted  upon  the  evidence  of 
reason;  because  this  is  really  both  admitting  and  denying  at  once,  a 
state  of  being  different  from  the  present  to  be  natural.  But  the  on- 
ly distinct  meaning  of  that  word  is  stated,  fixed,  or  settled;  since 
what  is  natural,  as  much  requires  and  presupposes  an  intelligent 
agent  to  render  it  so,  i.  e.  to  effect  it  continually  or  at  stated  times, 
as  what  is  supernatural  or  miraculous  does  to  effect  it  for  once.  And 
from  hence  it  must  follow,  that  persons'  notion  of  what  is  lAfural, 
will  be  enlarged  in  proportion  to  their  greater  knowledge  of  the 
works  of  God,  and  the  dispensations  of  his  providence.  Nor  is 
there  any  absurdity  in  supposing,  that  there  may  be  beings  in  the  uni- 
verse, whose  capacities,  and  knowledge,  and  views,  may  be  so  ex- 
tensive, as  that  the  whole  christian  dispensation  may  to  them  appear 
natural,  i.  e.  analagous  or  conformable  to  God's  dealings  with  other 
parts  of  his  creation;  as  natural  as  the  visible  known  course  of  things 
appears  to  us.  For  there  seems  scarce  any  other  possible  sense  to 
be  put  upon  the  word,  but  that  only  in  which  it  is  here  used;  similar, 
stated  or  uniform. 

This  credibility  of  a  future  life,  which  has  been  here  insisted  upon, 
how  little  soever  it  may  satisfy  our  curiosity,  seems  to  answer  all 
the  purposes  of  religion,  in  like  manner  as  a  demonstrative  proof 
would.  Indeed  a  proof,  even  a  demonstrative  one,  of  a  future  life, 
would  not  be  a  proof  of  religion.  For  that  we  are  to  live  hereafter, 
is  just  as  reconcileable  with  the  scheme  of  atheism,  and  as  well  to 
be  accounted  for  by  it,  as  that  we  are  now  alive,  is;  and  therefore 
nothing  can  be  more  absurd  than  to  argue  from  that  scheme,  that 
there  can  be  no  future  state.  But  as  religion  implies  a  future  state, 
any  presumption  against  such  a  state  is  a  presumption  against  reli- 
gion. And  the  foregoing  observations  remove  all  presumptions  of 
that  sort,  and  prove,  to  a  very  considerable  degree  of  probability, 
one  fundamental  doctrine  of  religion;  which,  if  believed,  would 
greatly  open  and  dispose  the  mind  seriously  to  attend  to  the  general 
evidence  of  the  whole. 


56  Of  the  Government  of  God.  Pari  L 


CHAP.  II. 


Of  the  Government  of  God  by  Rewards  and  Punishments^  and  par* 
ticularly  of  the  latter. 

THAT  which  makes  the  question  concerning  a  future  life  to  be  of 
so  great  importance  to  us,  is  our  capacity  of  happiness  and  misery. 
And  that  which  makes  the  consideration  of  it  to  be  of  so  great  impor- 
tance to  us,  is  the  supposition  of  our  happiness  and  misery  hereafter 
depending  upon  our  actions  here.  Without  this,  indeed,  curiosity 
90uld  not  but  sometimes  bring  a  subject,  in  which  we  may  be  so  high- 
ly interested,  to  our  thoughts;  especially  upon  the  mortality  of  oth- 
ers, or  the  near  prospect  of  our  own.  But  reasonable  men  would 
not  take  any  farther  thought  about  hereafter,  than  what  should  hap- 
pen thus  occasionally  to  rise  in  their  minds,  if  it  were  certain  that 
our  future  interest  no  way  depended  upon  our  present  behavior; 
whereas,  on  the  contrary,  if  there  be  ground,  either  from  analogy  or 
any  thing  else,to  think  it  does,then  there  is  reason  also  for  the  most  ac- 
tive thought  and  solicitude  to  secure  that  interest,  to  behave  so  as  that 
we  may  escape  that  misery  and  obtain  that  happiness  in  another  life, 
which  we  not  only  suppose  ourselves  capable  of,  but  which  we  appre- 
hend also  is  put  in  our  own  power.  And  whether  there  be  ground  for* 
this  last  apprehension,  certainly  would  deserve  to  be  most  seriously 
considered,  were  there  no  other  proof  of  a  future  life  and  interest 
than  that  presumptive  one  which  the  foregoing  observations  amount 
to. 

Now  in  the  present  state,  all  which  we  enjoy,  and  a  great  part  of 
what  we  suffer,  is  put  in  our  own  power.  For  pleasure  and  pain  are 
the  consequences  of  our  actions;  and  we  are  endued  by  the  author  of 
our  nature,  with  capacities  of  foreseeing  these  consequences.  We  find 
by  experience  he  does  not  so  much  as  preserve  our  lives,exclusively  of 
our  own  care  and  attention  to  provide  ourselves  with,  and  to  make  use 
of,  that  sustenance,by  which  he  has  appointed  our  lives  shall  be  preser- 
ved,and  without  which,  he  has  appointed  they  shall  not  be  preserved  at 
all.  And  in  general  we  foresee  that  the  external  things,  which  are  the: 
objects  of  our  various  passions,  can  neither  be  obtained  nor  enjoyed 
without  exerting  ourselves  in  such  and  such  manners;  but  by  thus 
exerting  ourselves,  we  obtain  and  enjoy  these  objects  in  which  our 
natural  good  consists;  or,  by  this  means  God  gives  us  the  possession 
and  enjoyment  of  them.  I  know  not  that  we  have  any  one  kind  or 
degree  of  enjoyment,  but  by  the  means  of  our  own  actions.  Ami  by 
prudence  and  care  we  may,  for  the  most  part,  pass  our  days  in  tolera- 
ble ease  and  quiet;  or,  on  the  contrary,  we  may  by  rashness,  ungov- 
erned  passion,  wilfulness,  or  even  by  negligence,  make  ourselves  as 
miserable  as  ever  we  please.  And  many  do  please  to  make  themselves 


Chap.  ir.  hy  Rewards  and  Punishments.  5? 

extremely  miserable,  i.  e.  to  do  what  they  know  befdre-hand  will  ren- 
der them  so.  They  follow  those  ways,  the  fruit  of  which  they  know 
by  instruction,  example,  experience,  will  be  disgrace,  and  poverty, 
and  sickness,  and  untimely  death.  This  every  one  observes  to  be 
the  general  course  of  things;  though  it  is  to  be  allowed,  we  cannot 
Und  by  experience,  that  all  our  sufferings  are  owing  to  our  owji  fol- 
lies. 

Why  the  author  of  nature  does  not  give  his  creatures  promiscuous- 
ly such  and  such  perceptions,  without  regard  to  their  behavior;  why 
he  does  not  make  them  happy  without  the  instrumentality  of  their 
-  own  actions,  and  prevent  their  bringing  any  sufferings  upon  them- 
selves, is  another  matter.     Perhaps  there  may  be  some  impossibili- 
ties in  the  nature  of  things,  which  we  are  acquainted  with.     Or  less 
happiness,  it  may  be,  would  upon  the  whole  be  produced  by  such  a 
method  of  conduct,  than  is  by  the  present.     Or  perhaps  divine  good- 
ness, with  which,  if  I  mistake  not,  we  make  very  free  in  our  specula- 
tions, may  not  be  a  bare  single  disposition  to  produce  happiness,  but  A 
disposition  to  make  the  good,  the  faithful,  the  honest  man  happy.  Per- 
haps an  infinitely  perfect  mind  may  be  pleased  with  seeing  his  crea- 
tures behave  suitably  to  the  nature  which  he  has  given  them,  to  the 
relations  which  he  has  placed  them  in  to  each  other,  and  to  that 
which  they  stand  ih  to  himself;  that  relation  to  himself,  which,  dur- 
ing their  existence,  is  even  necessary,  and  which  is  the  most  impor- 
tant one  of  all.     Perhaps,  I  say,  an  infinitely  perfect  mind  may  be 
pleased  with  this  moral  piety  of  moral  agents,  in  and  for  itself;  a? 
well  as  upon  account  of  its  being  essentially  conducive  to  the  happi- 
ness of  his  creation.     Or  the  whole  end,  for  which  God  niade,  and 
thus  governs  the  world,  may  be  utterly  beyond  the  reach  of  our  fac- 
ulties; there  may  be  somewhat  in  it  as  impossible  for  us  to  have  any 
conception  of,  as  for  a  blind  man  to  have  a  conception  of  colors. 
But  however  this  be,  it  is  certain  matter  of  universal  experience, 
that  the  general  method  of  divine  administration  is  forewarning  us, 
or  giving  us  capacities  to  foresee,  with  more  or  less  clearness,  that  if 
we  act  so  and  so,  we  shall  have  such  enjoyments,  if  so  and  so,  such 
sufferings;  and  giving  us  those  enjoyments,  and  making  us  feel  those 
sufferings,  in  consequence  of  our  actions. 

"  But  all  this  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  general  course  of  nature." 
True.  This  is  the  very  thing  which  1  am  observing.  It  is  to  be  as- 
cribed to  the  general  course  of  nature;  i.  e.  not  surely  to  the  words 
or  ideas,  course  of  nature,  but  to  him  who  appointed  it,  and  put 
things  into  it;  or  to  a  course  of  operation,  from  its  uniformity  or  con- 
stancy, called  natural;*  and  which  necessarily  implies  an  operating 
agent.  For  when  men  find  themselves  necessitated  to  confess  an 
Author  of  nature,  or  that  God  is  the  natural  Governor  ot  the  world, 
they  must  not  deny  this  again,  because  his  government  is  uniform; 
they  must  not  deny  that  he  does  things  at  all,  because  he  does  them 
constantly;  because  the  effects  of  his  acting  are  permanent,  whether 
his  acting  be  so  or  not,  though  there  is  no  reason  to  think  it  is  not. 
In  short,  every  man,  in  ftvery  thing  he  does,  naturally  acts  upon  the 
forethought  and  apprehension  of  avoiding  evil  or  obtaining  gooil;  antj, 

"  P.  55 

H 


5B  iJf  the  Government  of  God  ^^  Part  K 

if  the  natural  course  of  things  be  the  appointment  of  God,  and  our 
natural  faculties  of  knowledge  and  experience  are  given  us  by  him, 
then  the  good  and  bad  consequences  which  fullow  our  actions  are  his 
appointment,  and  our  foresight  of  those  consequences  is  a  warning 
given  us  by  him,  how  we  are  to  act. 

'•  Is  the  pleasure  then  naturally  accompanying  every  particular 
gratification  of  passion  intended  to  put  us  upon  gratifying  ourselveji 
in  every  such  particular  instance,  and  as  a  reward  to  us  for  so  doing?" 
No  certainly.  Nor  is  it  to  be  said,  that  our  eyes  were  naturally  in- 
tended to  give  us  the  sight  of  each  particular  object,  to  which  they 
do  or  can  extend;  objects  which  are  destructive  of  them,  or  whicn, 
for  any  other  reason,  it  may  become  us  to  turn  our  eyes  from.  Yet 
there  is  no  doubt  but  that  our  eyes  were  intended  for  us  to  see  with. 
So  neither  is  there  any  doubt  but  that  the  foreseen  pleasures  and 
pains  belonging  to  the  passions  were  intended,  in  general,  to  induce 
mankind  to  act  in  such  and  such  manners. 

Now  from  this  general  observation,  obvious  to  every  one,  that  God 
has  given  us  to  understand  he  has  appointed  satisfaction  and  delight 
to  be  the  consequence  of  our  acting  in  one  manner,  and  pain  and  un- 
easiness of  our  acting  in  another,  and  of  our  not  acting  at  all;  and 
that  we  find  the  consequences  which  we  were  beforehand  informed  of 
uniformly  to  follow — we  may  learn,  that  we  are  at  present  actually 
under  his  government  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper  sense;  in  such 
a  sense,  as  that  he  rewards  and  punishes  us  for  our  actions.  An  Au- 
thor of  nature  being  supposed,  it  is  not  so  much  a  deduction  of  rea- 
son as  a  matter  of  experience,  that  we  are  thus  under  his  government; 
under  his  government  in  the  same  sense  as  we  are  under  the  govern- 
ment of  civil  magistrates.  Because  the  annexing  pleasure  to  some 
actions  and  pain  to  others,  in  our  power  to  do  or  forbear,  and  giving 
notice  of  this  appointment  beforehand  to  those  whom  it  concerns,  is 
the  proper  formal  notion  of  government.  Whether  the  pleasure  or 
pain  which  thus  follows  upon  our  behavior  be  owing  to  the  Author  of 
nature's  acting  upon  us  every  moment  which  we  feel  it,  or  to  his  hav- 
ing at  once  contrived  and  executed  his  own  part  in  the  plan  of  the 
world,  makes  no  alteration  as  to  the  matter  before  us.  For  if 
civil  magistrates  could  make  the  sanctions  of  their  laws  take  place, 
without  interposing  at  all  after  they  had  passed  them,  without  a  trial 
and  the  formalities  of  an  execution;  if  they  were  able  to  make  their 
laws  execute  themselves,  or  every  offender  to  execute  them  upon 
himself;  we  should  be  just  in  the  same  sense  under  their  govern- 
ment then,  as  we  are  now,  but  in  a  much  higher  degree,  and  more 
perfect  manner.  Vain  is  the  ridicule,  with  which  one  foresees  some 
persons  will  divert  themselves,  upon  finding  lesser  pains  considered 
as  instances  of  divine  punishment.  There  is  no  possibility  of  an- 
swering or  evading  the  general  thing  here  intended,  without  denying 
all  final  causes.  For  final  causes  being  admitted,  the  pleasures  and 
pains  now  mentioned  must  be  admitted  too  as  instances  of  them. 
And  if  they  are,  if  God  annexes  delight  to  some  actions  and  unea- 
siness to  others,  with  an  apparent  design  to  induce  us  to  act  so  and 
so,  then  he  not  only  dispenses  happiness  and  misery,  but  also  rewards 
and  punishes  actions.  If,  for  example,  the  pain  which  we  feel,  upon 
doing  what  tends  to  the  destruction  of  our  bodies,  suppose  upon 


Cha?.  II.  hjf  Punishments.  59. 

too  near  approaches  to  fire,  or  upon  wounding  ourselves,  be  appoint- 
ed by  the  Author  of  nature  to  prevent  our  doing  what  thus  tends  to 
our  destruction,  this  is  altogether  as  much  an  instance  of  his  punish- 
ing our  actions,  and  consequently  of  our  being  under  his  government, 
as  declaring  by  a  voice  from  heaven  that  if  we  acted  so,  he  would 
inflict  such  pain  upon  us,  and  inflicting  it,  whether  it  be  greater  or 
less. 

Thus  we  find,  that  the  true  notion  or  conception  of  the  Author  of 
nature  is  that  of  a  master  or  governor,  prior  to  the  consideration  of 
his  moral  attributes.  The  fact  of  our  case,  which  we  find  by  expe- 
rience, is,  that  he  actually  exercises  dominion  or  government  over 
US  at  present,  by  rewarding  and  punishing  us  for  our  actions,  in  as 
strict  and  proper  a  sense  of  these  words,  and  even  in  the  same  suiset 
as  children,  servants,  subjects,  are  rewarded  and  punished  by  those 
who  govern  them. 

And  thus  the  whole  analogy  of  nature,  the  whole  present  course 
of  things,  most  fully  shows,  that  there  is  nothing  incredible  in  the 
general  doctrine  of  religion,  that  God  will  reward  and  punish  men 
for  their  actions  hereafter;  nothing  incredible,  I  mean,  arising  out  of 
the  notion  of  rewarding  and  punishing.  For  the  whole  course  of  na- 
ture is  a  present  instance  of  his  exercising  that  government  over  us, 
which  implies  in  it  rewarding  and  punishing. 


BUT  a*^  divine  punishment  is  what  men  chiefly  object  against, 
and  are  most  unwilling  to  allow,  it  may  be  proper  to  mention  some 
circumstances  in  the  natural  course  of  punishments  at  present, 
which  are  analogous  to  what  religion  teaches  os  concerning  a  future 
state  of  punishments;  indeed  so  analogous,  that  as  they  add  a  farther 
credibility  to  it,  so  they  cannot  but  raise  a  most  serious  Stpprehen- 
sion  of  it  in  those  who  will  attend  to  them. 

It  has  been  observed,  that  such  miseries  naturally  follow  such  and 
such  actions  of  imprudence  and  wilfulness,  as  well  as  actions  more 
commonly  and  more  distinctly  considered  as  vicious;  and  that  these 
consequences,  when  they  may  be  foreseen,  are  properly  natural  pun- 
ishments annexed  to  such  actions.  For  the  general  thing  here  insisted 
upon  is,  not  that  we  see  a  great  deal  of  misery  in  the  world,  but  a 
great  deal  which  men  bring  upon  themselves  by  the^r  own  behavior, 
which  they  might  have  foreseen  aUd  avoided.  Now  the  circumstances 
of  these  natural  punishments  particularly  deserving  our  attention,  are 
such  as  these:  that  oftentimes  they  follow  or  lave  inflicted  in  conse- 
quence of  actions,  which  procure  many  present  advantages,  and  are 
accompanied  with  much  present  pleasure;  for  instance,  sickness  and 
untimely  death  is  the  consequence  of  intemperance,  though  accom- 
panied with  the  highest  mirth  and  jollity:  that  these  punishments 
are  often  much  greater  than  the  advantages  or  pleasures  obtained  by 
the  actions  of  \vhich  they  are  the  punishments  or  consequences:  that 
though  we  may  imagine  a  constitution  of  nature,  in  which  these  nat- 
ural punishments  which  are  in  fact  to  follow  would  follow,  immedi- 
ately upon  such  actions  being  done,  or  very  soon  after;  we  find  on 


60  Of  the  (xoifernment  oj^  God  Part  I. 

the  contrary  in  our  world,  that  they  are  often  dcfayed  a  great  while, 
sometimes  even  until  long  after  the  actions  occasioning  them  are  for- 
got; so  that  the  constitution  of  nature  is  such,  that  delay  of  punish- 
ment is  no  sort  nor  degree  of  presumption  of  final  impunity:  that 
after  such  delay,  these  natural  punishments  or  miseries  often  come, 
not  b?  degrees,  but  suddenly,  with  violence,  and  at  once;  however, 
the  chief  misery  often  does:  that  as  certainty  of  such  distant  mise-= 
ry  following  such  actions  is  never  afforded  persons,  so  perhaps  during 
the  actions  they  have  seldom  a  distinct  full  expectation  of  its  follow- 
ing;* and  many  times  the  case  is  only  thus,  that  they  see  in  general, 
or  may  see,  the  credibility  that  intemperance,  suppose,  will  bring  af- 
ter it  diseases,  civil  crimes,  civil  punishments,  when  yet  the  real 
probability  otten  is  that  they  shall  escape;  but  things  notwithstand- 
ing take  their  destined  course,  and  the  misery  inevitably  follows  at 
its  appointed  time,  in  very  many  of  these  cases.  Thus  also,  though 
youth  may  be  alleged  as  an  excuse  for  rashness  and  folly,  as  being 
naturally  thoughtless,  and  not  clearly  foreseeing  all  the  consequences 
of  being  untractable  and  profligate,  this  does  not  hinder,  but  that  these 
consequences  follow,  and  are  grievously  felt  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  mature  life.  Habits  contracted  even  in  that  age  are  often 
utter  ruin;  and  men's  success  in  the  world,  not  only  in  the  common 
sense  of  worldly  success,  but  their  real  happiness  and  misery  de- 
pends, in  a  great  degree,  and  in  various  ways,  upon  the  manner  in 
which  they  pass  their  youth;  which  consequences  they  for  the  most 
part  neglect  to  consider,  and  perhaps  seldom  can  properly  be  said  to 
believe,  beforehand.  It  requires  also  to  be  mentioned,  that  in  num- 
berless cases  the  natural  course  of  things  affords  us  opportunities  for 
procuring  advantages  to  ourselves  at  certain  times,  which  we  cannot 
procure  when  we  will,  nor  ever  recal  the  opportunities,  if  we  have 
neglected  them.  Indeed  the  general  course  of  nature  is  an  example 
of  this.  If,  during  the  opportunity  of  youth,  persons  are  indocile 
and  self-willed,  they  inevitably  suffer  in  their  future  life  for  want  of 
those  acquirements  which  they  neglected  the  natural  season  of  at- 
tainingo  If  the  husbandman  lets  his  seed  time  pass  without  sowing, 
the  whole  year  is  lost  to  him  beyond  recovery.  In  like  manner, 
though  afler  men  have  been  guilty  of  folly  and  extravagance  up  to  a 
certain  degree,  it  is  often  in  their  power,  for  instance,  to  retrieve 
their  affairs*  to  recover  their  heakh  and  character,  at  least  in  good 
measure;  yet  real  reformation  ,is,  in  many  cases,  of  no  avail  at  all 
towards  preventing  the  miseries,  poverty,  sickness,  infamy,  naturally 
annexed  to  folly  and  extravagance  exceeding  that  degree.  There  is 
a  certain  bound  to  imprudence  and  misbehavior,  whicii  being  trans- 
gressed, there  remains  no  place  for  repentance  in  the  natural  course 
of  things.  It  is  fjjrther  very  much  to  be  remarked,  that  neglects 
from  inconsiderateness,  want  of  attention,!  not  looking  about  us  to 
dce  what  we  have  to  do,  are  often  attended  with  consequences  alto- 
gether as  dreadful  as  any  active  misbehavior,  from  the  most  extrava- 
gant passion.  And  lastly,  civil  government  being  natural,  the  pun- 
ishments of  it  are  so  too:  ajid  some  of  tiiese  punishments  .ire  capital, 
.19  the  itffcts  of  a  dissolute  course  of  pleasure  are  often  mortal.  So  tha|; 

*  5c:i-  Tart  IL  C:  ,  Poll  II.  Chap  vi. 


Chap.  IL  hy  Punishments,  04 

many  natural  punisihinents  are  final*to  him  who  incurs  them,  if  consid- 
ered only  in  his  temporal  capacity;  and  seem  inflicted  by  natural  ap- 
pointment, either  to  remove  the  offender  out  of  the  way  of  being  further 
mischievous;  or  as  an  example,  though  frequently  a  disregarded  one, 
to  those  who  are  left  behind. 

These  things  are  not  what  we  call  accidental,  or  to  be  met  with 
only  now  and  then;  but  they  are  things  of  every  day's  experience: 
they  proceed  from  general  laws,  very  general  ones,  by  which  God 
governs  the  world,  in  the  natural  course  of  his  providence.  And 
they  are  so  analogous  to  what  religion  teaches  us  concerning  the 
future  punishment  of  the  wicked,  so  much  of  a  piece  with  it,  that 
both  would  naturally  be  expiessed  in  the  very  same  words  and  man- 
ner of  description.  In  the  book  of  Proyer6s,t  for  instance,  wisdom 
is  introduced  as  frequenting  tiit  most  public  places  of  resort,  and  as 
rejected  when  she  offers  herseli  as  the  natural  appointed  guide  of 
human  life  Huw  longi  spea'ving  to  those  who  are  passing  through 
it,  how  long,  ye  simp'e  cn-'is-  ivill  ye  love  folly,  and  the  seorners 
delight  in  their  scojnh-^^'  and  fools  hate  knowledge?  Turn  ye  at  my 
reproof  BeKoliu  I  ^vill  vmir  out  my  Spirit  upon  you,  I  will  make 
known  my  words  unih  you-  Hut  upon  being  neglected,  Because  I 
have  called,  and  ye  refuseil,  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no 
jtian  regarded;  but  ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would 
none  of  my  reproof:  I  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock 
tchen  your  fear  Cometh ;  when  your  fear  cometh  as  desolation,  and 
your  destruction  comeih  as  a  whirlwind;  when  distress  and  anguish 
cometh  upon  you.  Tlien  shall  they  call  upon  me,  but  I  will  not 
answer;  they  shall  seek  me  early,  but  they  shall  not  find  me.  This 
passage  every  one  sees  is  poeUcal,  and  some  parts  of  it  are  highly 
figurative:  but  their  mpjtniug  is  obvious.  And  the  thing  intended  is 
expressed  more  literally  in  the  fol'owing  words:  For  that  they  hated 
knowledge,  and  did  not  choose  the  fear  of  the  Lord — therefore  shall 
they  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  own 
devices.  For  the  security  of  the  simple  shall  slay  them,  and  the  pros- 
perity of  fools  shall  destroy  them.  And  the  whole  passage  is  so 
equally  applicable  to  what  we  experience  in  the  present  world  con- 
cerning the  consequences  of  men's  actions,  and  to  what  religion 
teaches  us  is  to  be  expected  in  another,  that  it  may  be  questioned 
which  of  the  two  was  principally  intended. 

*  The  geaeral  considei-ation  of  a  future  state  of  ponishment,  most  evidently  belongs 
to  .the  subject  of  natural  religion.  But  if  any  of  these  reflections  should  be  thought  to 
relate  more  particularly  to  this  doctrine,  as  taught  in  scripture,  the  reader  is'  desired 
to  ohserve  that  gentile  writers,  botli  moralists  and  poets,  speak  of  the  future  punish. 
ment  of  the  wicked,  both  as  to  the  duration  and  degree  of  it,  in  a  like  manner  of  ex- 
pression and  ot  description  as  the  scripture  does.  So  that  all  which  can  positively  be 
asserted  to  be  matter  of  mere  revelation,  with  regard  to  this  doctrine,  seems  to  bt-, 
that  the  great  distinction  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  shall  be  made  at  the 
end  of  this  world;  that  each  shall  then  receive  according  to  his  deserts.  Reason  did, 
as  it  well  might,  conclude  that  it  should,  finally  and  upon  the  whole,  be  well  with  the 
righteous  and  ill  with  the  wicked;  but  it  could  not  be  determined  upon  any  principles, 
of  reason,  whether  human  creatures  might  not  have  been  appointed  to  pass  through 
other  states  of  lile  and  being,  before  that  distributive  justice  should  finally  and  effect- 
ually take  place.  Revelation  teaches  us,  tliat  the  next  state  of  things  afier  the  present: 
is  appointed  for  the  execution  of  this  justice,  that  it  shall  be  no  longer  delayed;  but  the 
mystery  of  God,  the  great  mystery  of  his  suffering  vice  and  confusion  to  prevail,  shaU 
then  be  finished;  and  he  will'take  to  him  his  great  power  arid  will  jejgn,  by  rendering 
to  erery  one  accorduig  to  his  works. 
"         '  t  Chap.  i. 


tia  Of  the  Government  of  God,  Sfe.  Part  L' 

Indeed  when  one  has  been  recollecting  the  proper  proofs  of  a 
future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments,  nothing  methinks  can  give 
one  so  sensible  an  apprehension  of  the  latter,  or  representation  of  it 
to  the  mind;  as  observing,  that  after  the  many  disregarded  checks, 
admonitions  and  warnings,  which  people  meet  with  in  the  ways  of 
▼ice  and  folly  and  extravagance;  warnings  from  their  very  nature; 
from  the  examples  of  others;  from  the  lesser  inconveniences  which 
they  bring  upon  themselves;  from  the  instructions  pf  wise  and  virtu- 
ous men — after  these  have  been  long  despised,  scorned,  ridiculed; 
after  the  chief  bad  consequences,  temporal  consequences,  of  their 
follies  have  been  delayed  for  a  great  while;  at  length  they  break  in 
irresistibly,  like  an  armed  force;  repentance  is  too  late  to  relieve, 
and  can  serve  only  to  aggravate  their  distress;  the  case  is  become 
desperate,  and  poverty  and  sickness,  remorse  and  anguish,  infamy 
and  death,  the  effects  of  their  own  doings,  overwhelm  them,  beyond 
possibility  of  remedy  or  escape.  This  is  an  account  of  what  is  in 
fact  the  general  constitution  of  nature. 

It  is  not  in  any  sort  meant,  that  according  to.  what  appears  at 
present  of  the  natural  course  of  things,  men  are  always  uniformly 
punished  in  proportion  to  their  misbehaviour;  but  that  there  are  very 
many  instances  of  misbehaviour  punished  in  the  several  ways  now 
mentioned,  and  very  dreadful  instances  too:  sufiicient  to  show  what 
the  laws  of  the  universe  may  admit,  and,  if  thoroughly  considered, 
sufficient  fully  to  answer  all  objections  against  the  credibility  of  a 
future  state  of  punishments,  from  any  imaginations  that  the  frailty 
of  our  nature  and  external  temptations  almost  annihilate  the  guilt  of 
human  vices,  as  well  as  obje«tions  of  another  sort,  from  necessity, 
from  suppositions  that  the  will  of  an  infinite  being  cannot  be  contra- 
dicted, or  that  he  must  be  incapable  of  oflence  and  provocation.* 

Reflections  of  this  kind  are  not  without  their  terrors  to  serfous 
persons,  the  most  free  from  enthusiasm,  and  of  the  greatest  strength 
of  mind;  but  it  is  fit  things  be  stated  and  considered  as  they  really 
are.  And  there  is,  in  the  present  age,  a  certain  fearlessness,  with 
regard  to  what  may  be  hereafter  under  the  government  of  God,  which 
nothing  but  an  universally  acknowledged  demonstration  on  the  side 
of  atheism  can  justify;  and  which  makes  it  qu  jte  necessary,  that  men 
be  reminded,  and  if  possible  made  to  feel,  that  there  is  no  sort  of 
ground  for  being  thus  presumptuous,  even  upon  the  most  sceptical 
principles.  For,  may  it  not  be  sajd  of  any  person  upon  his  being 
born  into  the  world,  he  may  behave  so  as  to  be  of  no  service  to  it, 
but  by  being  made  an  example  of  the  woful  effects  of  vice  and  folly? 
That  he  may,  as  any  one  may,  if  he  will,  incur  an  infamous  exeeution 
from  the  hands  of  civil  justice;  or  in  some  other  course  of  extrava- 
gance shorten  his  days;  or  bring  upon  himself  infamy  and  diseases 
worse  than  death?  So  that  it  had  been  better  for  him,  even  with 
regard  to  the  present  world,  that  he  had  never  been  born.  And  is 
there  any  pretence  of  reason,  for  people  to  think  themselves  secure, 
and  talk  as  if  they  had  certain  proof,  that  let  them  act  as  licentiously 
as  they  will,  there  can  be  nothing  analogous  to  this,  with  regard  to 
a  future  and  more  general  interest,  under  the  providence  and  gov* 
ernment  of  the  same  God? 

*  See  Chap,  iv,  and  vi. 


Chap.  III.  Of  Moral  Government.  65 


CHAP.  III. 


Of  the  Moral  Government  of  God. 

AS  the  manifold  appearances  of  design  and  of  final  causes,  in  the 
constitution  of  the  world,  prove  it  to  be  the  work  of  an  intelligent 
mind,  so  the  particular  final  causes  oi  pleasure  and  pain  distributed 
amongst  his  creatures,  prove  that  they  are  under  his  government; 
what  may  be  called  his  natural  government  of  creatures  endued  witU 
sense  and  reason.  This,  however,  implies  somewhat  more  than 
seems  usually  attended  to,  when  we  speak  of  God's  natural  govern- 
ment of  the  world.  It  implies  government  of  the  very  same  kind 
with  that,  which  a  roaster  exercises  over  his  servants,  or  a  civil  mag- 
istrate over  his  subjects.  These  latter  instances  of  final  causes  as 
really  prove  an  intelligent  Governor  of  the  world,  in  the  sense  now 
mentioned,  and  before*  distinctly  treated  of,  as  any  other  instances 
of  final  causes  prove  an  intelligent  Maker  of  it. 

But  this  alone  does  not  appear  at  first  sight  to  determine  any* 
thing  certainly,  concerning  t^e  moral  character  of  the  author  of 
nature,  considered  in  this  relation  of  governor;  does  not  ascertain 
his  government  to  be  moral,  or  prove  that  he  is  the  righteous  Judge 
of  the  world.  Moral  government  consists,  not  barely  in  rewarding 
and  punishing  men  for  their  actions,  which  the  most  tyrannical  per- 
son may  do;  but  in  rewarding  the  righteous  and  punishing  the  wicked,' 
in  rendering  to  men  according  to  their  actions,  considered  as  good 
or  evil.  And  the  perfection  or  moral  government  consists  in  doing- 
this,  with  regard  to  all  intelligent  creatures,  in  an  exact  proportioa' 
to  their  personal  merits  or  demerits. 

Some  men  seem  to  think  the  only  character  of  the  author  of  nature' 
to  be  that  of  simple  absolute  benevolence.  This,  considered  as  a^ 
principle  of  action  and  infinite  in  degree,  is  a  disposition  to  produce' 
the  greatest  possible  happiness,  without  regard  to  persons'  behaviour,' 
otherwise  than  as  such  regard  would  produce  higher  degrees  of  it. 
And  supposing  this  to  be  the  only  character  of  God,  veracity  and 
justice  m  him  would  be  nothing  but  benevolence  conducted  by  wisf 
dora.  No<f  surely  this  ought  not  to  be  asserted,  unless  it  can  b^ 
proved;  for  we  should  speak  with  cautious  reverence  upon  such  H 
subject.  And  whether  it  can  be  proved  or  not,  is  not  the  thing  here 
to  be  inquired  into;  but  whether  in  the  constitution  and  conduct  of 
tlie^world  a  righteous  government  be  not  discernibly  planned  out; 
which  necessarily  implies  a  righteous  Governor.  There  may  possi- 
bly be  in  the  creation  beings,  to  whom  the  author  of  nature  manifests 
himself  under  this  most  amiable  of  all  characters,  this  of  infinite  abso- 

*  Chap.  ii. 


64  PftheJioral  Part  I. 

lute  benevolence;  for  It  is  the  most  amiable,  supposing  it  not,  as 
perhaps  it  is  not,  incompatible  with  justice;  but  he  manifests  himself 
to  us  under  the  character  of  a  righteous  Governor.  He  may,  con- 
sistently with  this,  be  simply  and  absolutely  benevolent,  in  the  sense 
now  explained;  buthe  is,  for  he  has  given  us  a  proof  in  the  constitu- 
tion and  conduct  of  the  world  that  he  is,  a  governor  over  servants,  as 
he  rewards  and  punishes  us  for  our  actions.  And  in  the  constitution 
and  conduct  of  it,  he  may  also  have  given,  besides  the  reason  of  the 
thing,  and  the  natural  presages  of  conscience,  clear  and  distinct  inti- 
mations that  his  government  is  righteous  or  moral;  clear  to  such  as 
think  the  nature  of  it  deserving  their  attention;  and  yet  not  to  every 
careless  person,  who  casts  a  transient  reflection  upon  the  subject.* 

But  it  is  particularly  to  be  observed,  that  the  divine  government, 
which  we  experience  ourselves  under  in  the  present  state,  taken 
alone,  is  allowed  not  to  be  the  perfection -of  moral  government.  And 
yet  this  by  no  means  hinders  but  that  there  may  be  somewhat,  be  it 
more  or  less,  truly  moral  in  it.  A  righteous  government  may  plainly 
appear  to  be  carried  on  to  some  degree;  enough  to  give  us  the  appre- 
hension that  it  shall  be  completed,  or  carried  on  to  that  degree  of 
perfection  which  religion  teaches  us  it  shall;  but  which  cannot  ap- 
pear, till  much  more  of  the  divine  administration  be  seen,  than  can 
in  the  present  life.  And  the  design  of  this  chapter  is  to  inquire,  how 
far  this  is  the  case;  how  far,  over  and  above  the  moral  nature!  which 
God  has  given  us,  and  our  natural  notion  of  him  as  righteous  Gov- 
ernor of  those  his  creatures,  to  whom  he  has  given  this  nature;  I  say 
how  far  besides  this,  the  principles  and  beginnings  of  a  moral  govern- 
ment over  the  world  may  be  discerned,  notwithstanding  and  amidst 
all  the  confusion  and  disorder  of  it. 

Now  one  might  mention  here,  what  has  been  often  urged  with 
great  force,  that  in  general  less  uneasiness  and  more  satisfaction  are 
the  natural  consequences:^  of  a  virtuous  than  of  a  vicious  course  of 
life,  in  the  present  state,  as  an  instance  of  a  moral  government  estab- 
lished in  nature;  an  instance  of  it,  collected  from  experience  and 
present  matter  of  fact.  But  it  must  be  owned  a  thing  of  difficulty  tQ 
weigh  and  balance  pleasures  and  uneasinesses,  each  amongst  them- 
selves, and  also  against  each  other,  so  as  to  make  an  estimate,  with 
any  exactness,  of  the  overplus  of  happiness  on  the  side  of  virtue. 
And  it  is  not  impossible,  that,  amidst  the  infinite  disorders  of  the 
world,  there  may  be  exceptions  to  the  happiness  of  virtue,  even  with 
regard  to  those  persons  whose  course  of  life,  from  their  youth  up,  has 
been  blameless;  and  more  with  regard  to  those  who  have  gone  on 
for  some  time  in  tlie  ways  of  vice,  and  have  afterwards  refornied. 
For  suppose  an  instance  of  the  latter  case;  a  person  with  bis  passions 
inflamed,  his  natural  faculty  of  self-government  impaired  by  habits 

*  The  ohjertions  against  religion,  from  the  evidence  of  it  not  being  universal,  nor  so 
strong  as  might  possibly  have  been,  may  be  tirgeil  against  naturnl  religion,  as  well  as 
against  revealed;  and  therefore  the  consideration  of  them  belongs  to  the  first  part  of 
this  treatise,  as  wcW  as  the  second.  But  as  th<-se  objections  are  chiefly  ui-ged  against 
revealed  religion,  (  chose  to  consider  them  in  the  second  part.  And  the  answer  to 
them  there,  Chap.  vi.  as  urged  agtVmst  Christianity,  being  almost  equally  applicable  to 
them  as  urged  against  the  religion  of  nature;  to  avoid  repetition,  the  reader  is  releiTod 
to  that  chapter. 

T  Dissf rtation  11.        t  Soe  Lord  Shaftsbnry 's  Inquirr  concecning  Virtue,  Part  II. 


Chap.  III.  Government  of  God.  6^ 

of  indulgence,  and  with  all  his  vices  about  him,  like  so  many  harpies, 
craving  for  their  accustomed  gratifications,  who  can  say  how  long  it 
might  be,  before  such  a  person  would  find  more  satisfaction  in  the  rea- 
sonableness and  present  good  consequences  of  virtue,  than  difficulties 
and  self  denial  in  the  restraints  of  it?  Experience  also  shows,  that 
men  can,  to  a  great  degree,  get  over  their  sense  of  shame,  so  as  that 
by  professing  themselves  to  be  without  principle,  and  avowing  evea 
direct  villany,  they  can  support  themselves  against  the  infamy  of  it. 
But  as  the  ill  actions  of  any  one  will  probable  be  more  talked  of,  and 
oftener  thrown  in  his  way,  upon  his  reformation,  so  the  infamy  of 
them  will  be  much  more  felt,  after  the  natural  sense  of  virtue  and 
honor  is  recovered.  Uneasinesses  of  this  kind  ought,  indeed,  to  be 
put  to  the  account  of  former  vices;  yet  it  will  be  said,  they  are  in 
part  the  consequences  of  reformation.  Still  I  am  far  from  allowing 
it  doubtful,  whether  virtue,  upon  the  whole,  be  happier  than  vice  in 
the  present  world.  But  if  it  were,  yet  the  beginnings  of  a  righteous 
administration  may,  beyond  all  question,  be  found  in  nature,  if  we 
will  attentively  inquire  after  them.     And, 

I.  In  whatever  manner  the  notion  of  God's  moral  government  over 
the  world  might  be  treated,  if  it  did  not  appear  whether  he 
were  in  a  proper  sense  our  governor  at  all,  yet  when  it  is  certain 
matter  of  experience,  that  he  does  manifest  himself  to  us  under  the 
character  of  a  governor,  in  the  sense  explained,*  it  must  deserve  to 
be  considered,  whether  there  be  not  reason  to  apprehend,  that  he  may 
be  a  righteous  or  moral  governor.  Since  it  appears  to  be  fact,  that 
God  does  govern  mankind  by  the  method  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, according  to  some  settled  rules  of  distribution,  it  is  surely  a 
question  to  be  asked,  what  presumption  is  there  against  his  finally 
rewarding  and  punishing  them,  according  to  this  particular  rule, 
namely,  as  they  act  reasonably  or  unreasonably,  virtuously  or  vi- 
ciously? since  rendering  men  happy  or  miserable  by  this  rule,  cer- 
tainly, falls  in,  much  more  falls  in,  with  our  natural  apprehensions 
and  sense  of  things,  than  doing  so  by  any  other  rule  whatever;  since 
rewarding  and  punishing  actions  by  any  other  rule,  would  appear 
much  harder  to  be  accounted  for  by  minds  formed  as  he  has  formed 
ours.  Be  the  evidence  of  religion  then  more  or  less  clear,  the  expec- 
tation which  it  raises  in  us,  that  the  righteous  shall,  upon  the  whole, 
be  happy,  and  the  wicked  miserable,  cannot  however  possibly  be  con- 
sidered as  absurd  or  chimerical;  because  it  is  no  more  than  an  expec- 
tation, that  a  method  of  government  already  begun,  shall  be  carried 
on,  the  method  of  rewarding  and  punishing  actions;  and  shall  be 
carried  on  by  a  particular  rule,  which  unavoidably  appears  to  us  at 
first  sight  more  natural  than  any  other,  the  rule  which  we  call  distri- 
butive justice.    Nor, 

II.  Ought  it  to  be  entirely  passed  over,  that  tranquillity,  satisfac- 
tion, and  external  advantages,  being  the  natural  consequences  of 
prudent  management  of  ourselves,  and  our  afiairs;  and  rashness, 
profligate  negligence,  and  wilful  folly,  bringing  after  them  many 
inconveniences  and  sufferings;  these  afford  instances  of  a  right  con- 
stitution of  nature;  sfi  the  correction  of  children^  for  their  own  sakes, 

*  Chap,  ii. 


66  Of  the  Moral  Part  I. 

and  by  way  of  example,  when  they  run  into  danger  or  hurt  them- 
selves, is  a  part  of  right  education.  And  thus,  that  God  governs  the 
world  by  general  fixed  laws,  that  he  has  endued  us  with  capacities 
of  reflecting  upon  this  constitution  of  things,  and  foreseeing  the  good 
and  bad  consequences  of  our  behaviour,  plainly  implies  some  sort  of 
moral  government;  since  from  such  a  constitution  of  things  it  cannot 
but  follow,  that  prudence  and  imprudence,  which  are  of  the  nature  of 
virtue  and  vice,*  must  be,  as  they  are,  respectively  rewarded  and 
punished. 

III.  From  the  natural  course  of  things,  vicious  actions  are,  to  a 
great  degree,  actually  punished  as  mischievous  to  society;  and  besides 
punishment  actually  inflicted  upon  this  account,  there  is  also  the  fear 
and  apprehension  of  it  in  those  persons,  whose  crimes  have  rendered 
them  obnoxious  to  it,  in  case  of  a  discovery;  this  state  of  fear  being 
itself  often  a  very  considerable  punishment.  The  natural  fear  and 
apprehension  of  it  too,  which  restrains  from  such  crimes,  is  a  decla- 
ration of  nature  against  them.  It  is  necessary  to  the  very  being  of 
society,  that  vices  destructive  of  it  should  be  punished  as  being  so; 
the  vices  of  falsehood,  injustice,  cruelty;  which  punishment  therefore 
is  as  natural  as  society,  and  so  is  an  instance  of  a  kind  of  moral 
government,  naturally  established  and  actually  taking  place.  And, 
since  the  certain  natural  course  of  things  is  the  conduct  of  Providence 
or  the  government  of  God,  though  carried  on  by  the  instrumentality 
of  men,  tlie  observation  here  made  amounts  to  this,  that  mankind 
find  themselves  placed  by  him  in  such  circumstances,  as  that  they  are 
unavoidably  accountable  for  their  behaviour,  and  are  often  punished, 
and  sometimes  rewarded  under  his  government,  in  the  view  of  their 
being  mischievous,  or  eminently  beneficial  to  society. 

if  it  be  objected  that  good  actions,  and  such  as  are  beneficial  to 
society,  are  often  punished,  as  in  the  case  of  persecution  and  in  other 
cases,  and  that  ill  and  mischievous  actions  are  often  rewarded,  it  may 
be  answered  distinctly,  first,  that  this  is  in  no  sort  necessary,  and 
consequently  not  natural,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  necessary,  and 
therefore  natural,  that  ill  or  mischievous  actions  should  be  punished; 
and  in  the  next  place,  that  good  actions  are  never  punished,  consid- 
ered as  beneficial  to  society,  nor  ill  actions  rewarded,  under  the 
view  of  their  being  hurtful  to  it.  So  that  it  stands  good,  without  any 
thing  on  the  side  of  vice  to  be  set  over  against  it,  that  the  Author  of 
nature  has  as  truly  directed,  that  vicious  actions,  considered  as  mis- 
chievous to  society,  should  be  punished,  and  put  mankind  under  a 
necessity  of  thus  punishing  them,  as  he  has  directed  and  necessitated 
us  to  preserve  our  lives  by  food. 

IV.  In  the  natural  course  of  things,  virtue  as  such  is  actually  re- 
warded, and  vice  as  such  punished;  which  seems  to  afford  an  instance 
or  example,  not  only  of  government,  but  of  moral  government,  begun 
and  established;  moral  in  the  strictest  sense,  though  not  in  that  per- 
fection of  degree,  which  religion  teaches  us  to  expect.  In  order  to 
see  this  more  clearly,  we  must  distinguish  between  actions  themselves, 
and  that  quality  ascribed  to  them,  which  we  call  virtuods  or  vicious. 
The  gratification  itself  of  every  natural  passion,  must  be  attended 

*  See  Dissertation  U. 


Chap.  III.  Oovernment  of  God.  6T 

with  delight;  and  acquisitions  of  fortune,  however  made,  are  acqui- 
sitions of  the  means  or  materials  of  enjoyment.  An  action  then,  by 
which  any  natural  passion  is  gratifie<l,  or  fortune  acquired,  procures 
delight  or  advantage,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of  the  mo- 
rality of  such  action.  Consequently,  the  pleasure  or  advantage 
in  this  case  is  gained  hy  the  action  itself,  not  by  the  morality,  the 
virtuousness  or  viciousness  of  it:  though  it  be,  perhaps,  virtuous  or 
vicious.  Thus  to  say  such  an  action  or  course  of  behavior  procured 
such  pleasure  or  advantage,  or  brought  on  such  inconvenience  and 
pain,  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  saying,  that  such  good  or  bad 
effect  was  owing  to  the  virtue  or  vice  of  such  action  or  behavior.  In 
one  case,  an  action,  abstracted  from  all  moral  consideration,  produc- 
ed its  effect;  in  the  other  case,  for  it  will  appear  that  there  are  such 
cases,  the  morality  of  the  action,  the  action  under  a  moral  conside- 
ration, i.  e.  the  virtuousness  or  viciousness  of  it,  produced  the  effect. 
Now  I  say,  virtue?  as  such,  naturally  procures  considerable  advan- 
tages to  the  virtuous,  and  vice,  as  such,  naturally  occasions  great  in- 
convenience and  even  misery  to  the  vicious,  in  very  many  instances. 
The  immediate  effects  of  virtue  and  vice  upon  the  mind  and  temper 
■  are  to  be  mentioned  as  instances  of  it.  Vice,  as  such,  is  naturally 
attended  with  some  sort  of  uneasiness,  and,  not  uncommonly,  with 
great  disturbance  and  apprehension.  That  inward  feeling,  which 
respecting  lesser  matters,  and  in  familiar  speech,  we  oall  being  vexed 
with  oneself,  and  in  matters  of  importance  and  in  more  serious  lan- 
guage, remorse,  is  an  uneasiness  naturally  arising  from  an  action  of  a 
man's  own,  reflected  upon  by  himself  as  wrong,  unreasonable,  faulty, 
i.  e.  vicious  in  greater  or  less  degrees;  and  this  manifestly  is  a  differ- 
ent feeling  from  that  uneasiness  which  arises  from  a  sense  of  mere 
loss  or  harm.  What  is  more  common,  than  to  hear  a  man  lamenting 
an  accident  or  event  and  adding, — but  however  he  has  the  satisfac- 
tion that  he  cannot  blame  himself  for  it;  or  on  the  contrary,  that  he 
has  the  uneasiness  of  being  sensible  it  was  his  own  doing.''  Thus  also 
the  disturbance  and  fear,  which  often  follow  upon  a  man's  having 
done  an  injury,  arise  from  a  sense  of  his  being  blameworthy;  other- 
wise there  would,  in  many  cases,  be  no  ground  of  disturbance,  nor 
any  reason  to  fear  resentment  or  shame.  On  the  other  hand,  inward 
security  and  peace,  and  a  mind  open  to  the  several  gratifications  of 
life,  are  the  natural  attendants  of  innocence  and  virtue.  To  which 
must  be  added  the  complacency,  satisfaction,  and  even  joy  of  heart, 
which  accompany  tlie  exercise,  the  real  exercise,  of  gratitude,  friend- 
ship, benevolence. 

And  here,  I  think,  ought  to  be  mentioned,  the  fears  of  future  pun- 
ishment, and  peaceful  hopes  of  a  better  life,  in  those  who  fully  be- 
lieve, or  have  any  serious  apprehension  of  religion,  because  these 
hopes  and  fears  are  present  uneasiness  and  satisfaction  to  the  mind; 
^nd  cannot  be  got  rid  of  by  great  part  of  the  world,  even  by  men 
who  have  thought  most  thoroughly  upon  the  subject  of  religion.  And 
no  one  can  say,  how  considerable  this  uneasiness  and  satisfaction 
may  be,  or  what  upon  the  whole  it  may  amount  to. 

In  the  next  place  comes  in  the  consideration,  that  all  honest 
and  good  men  are  disposed  to  befriend  honest  good  men, 
as  such,  and  to  discountenance  the  vicious,  as  such,  and  do  so 


i(  0/  the  Moral  Part  I. 

in  some  degree,  indeed  in  a  considerable  degree;  from  which  fa- 
vor and  discouragement  cannot  but  arise  considerable  advantage 
and  inconvenience.  And  though  the  generality  of  the  world  have 
little  regard  to  the  morality  of  their  own  actions,  and  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  less  to  that  of  others,  when  they  themselves  are  not 
concerned,  yet  let  any  one  be  known  to  be  a  man  of  virtue,  some 
how  or  other  he  will  be  favored,  and  good  offices  will  be  done  him, 
from  regard  to  his  character  without  remote  views,  occasionally,  and 
in  some  low  degree,  I  think,  by  the  generality  of  the  world,  as  it  hap- 
pens to  come  in  their  way.  Public  honors  too  and  advantages  are 
the  natural  consequences,  are  sometimes  at  least  the  consequences 
in  fact,  of  virtuous  actions;  of  eminent  justice,  fidelity,  charity,  love 
to  our  country,  considered  in  the  view  of  being  virtuous.  And  some- 
times even  death  itself,  often  infamy  and  external  inconveniences, 
are  the  public  consequences  of  vice,  as  vice.  For  instance,  the  sense 
which  mankind  have  of  tyranny,  injustice,  oppression,  additional  to 
the  mere  feeling  or  fear  of  misery,  has  doubtless  been  instrumental 
in  bringing  about  revolutions,  which  make  a  figure  even  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  For  it  is  plain,  men  resent  injuries  as  implying  faulti- 
uess,  and  retaliate,  not  merely  under  the  notion  of  having  received 
harm,  but  of  having  received  wrong;  and  they  have  this  resentment 
in  behalf  of  others,  as  well  as  of  themselves.  So  likewise  even  the 
generality  are,  in  some  degree,  grateful,  and  disposed  to  return  good 
offices,  not  merely  because  such  an  one  has  been  the  occasion  of  good 
to  them,  but  under  the  view,  that  such  good  offices  implied  kind  at- 
tention and  good  desert  in  the  doer.  To  all  this  may  be  added  two 
or  three  particular  things,  v/hich  many  persons  will  think  frivolous; 
but  to  me  nothing  appears  so,  ivhich  at  all  comes  in  towards  deter- 
mining a  question  of  such  importance,  as,  whether  there  be  or  be 
not  a  moral  institution  of  government,  in  the  strictest  sense  moral, 
visibly  established  and  begun  in  nature.  The  particular  things  are 
these:  that  in  domestic  government,  which  is  doubtless  natural,  chil- 
dren and  others  also  are  very  generally  punished  for  falsehood  and 
injustice  and  ill  behaviour,  as  such,  and  rewarded  for  the  contrary; 
which  are  instances  where  veracity  and  justice,  and  right  behaviour, 
as  such,  are  naturally'  enforced  by  rewards  and  punishments,  whether 
more  or  less  considerable  in  degrae:  that,  though  civil  government 
he  supposed  to  take  cogr^izance  of  actions  in  no  other  view  than  as 
prejudicial  to  society,  without  respect  to  the  immorality  of  them; 
yet  as  such  actions  are  immoral,  so  the  sense  which  men  have  of  the 
immorality  of  them  very  greatly  contributes,  in  diff'erent  ways,  to 
bring  oftenders  to  justice;  and,  that  entire  absence  of  all  crime  and 
guilt  in  the  moral  sense,  when  plainly  appearing,  will  almost  of  course 
procure,  acd  circumstances  of  aggravated  guilt  prevent,  a  remission 
of  the  penalties  annexed  to  civii  crimes,  in  many  cases,  though  by  no 
means  in  all. 

Upon  the  whole  then,  besides  the  good  and  bad  effects  of  virtue 
and  vice  upon  men's  own  minds,  the  course  of  the  world  does,  in 
some  measure,  turn  upon  the  approbation  and  disapprobation  of  them, 
as  such,  in  others.  The  sense  of  well  and  ill  doing,  the  presages  of 
conscience,  the  love  of  good  characters  and  dislike  of  bad  ones,  honor^ 
shame,  resentment,  gratitude;  all  these,  considered  in  themselves^ 


Chap.  III.  Government  of  God.  69 

and  in  their  effects,  io  a^!  .0  manifest  real  instances  of  virtue,  as 
such,  naturally  favored,  i  -I  vice  as  such,  discountenanced,  more 
or  less,  in  the  daily  course  - :  human  life:  in  every  age,  in  every  relation, 
in  every  genera'  ;  ircunri«  uice  of  It.  That  God  has  given  us  a  moral 
nature,*  may  most  justly  be  urged  as  a  proof  ©four  being  under  his  mo- 
ral governaierit.  but  f.cit  l>f  Ims  placed  us  in  a  condition,  which  gives 
tkis  nature,  as  oo«  may  speak,  scope  to  operate,  and  in  which  it  does 
unavoidably  opf^rtiie.  i>  e.  influence  mankind  to  act,  so  as  thus  to 
favor  ana  leward  vii<ue.  and  disiountenance  and  punish  vice — this 
is  not  the  same,  but  a  further  additional  proof  of  his  moral  govern- 
ment, for  it  is  an  i  itance  of  it.  The  first  is  a  proof  that  he  will  finally 
favor  and  support  virtue  eiFxtually;  the  second  is  an  example  of  his 
favoring  and  su;ipyriiiti»;  it  at  present,  in  some  degree. 

If  a  more  distitict  icqu;r\  b«?  made,  whence  it  arises  that  virtue,  as 
such,  is  often  ••^  •  urded.  aid  vice,  iS  such,  is  punished,  and  this  rule 
never  invctte  — it  will  be  fimiid  to  proceed,  in  part,  immediately 
from  the  m-^a'  narure  itself,  which  God  has  given  us;  and  also, 
in  part,  froci  his  having  given  us,  together  vvith  this  nature,  so  great 
a  power  o,>*r  each  other's  happiness  and  misery.  For  first,  it  is 
certain  th...  pejce  and  delight,  in  some  degree  and  upon  some  occa- 
sions, i=  the  oeressary  and  present  effect  of  virtuous  practice;  an 
effect  arismg  immediately  from  that  constitution  of  our  nature. 
We  are  so  made,  that  well  doing,  as  such,  gives  us  satisfaction 
at  east  in  some  instances;  ill  doing,  as  such,  in  none.  And  secondly, 
frf'ia  our  moral  nature,  joined  with  God's  having  put  our  happiness 
and  misefy  in  many  respects  in  each  other's  power,  it  cannot  but  be 
that  vice,  as  such,  some  kinds  and  instances  of  it  at  least,  will  be  in- 
famous, and  men  will  be  disposed  to  punish  it,  as  in  itself  detestable; 
and  the  villain  will  by  no  means  be  able  always  to  avoid  feeling  that 
infamy,  any  more  than  he  will  be  able  to  escape  this  further  punish- 
ment, which  mankind  will  be  disposed  to  inflict  upon  him,  under  the 
notion  of  his  deserving  it.  But  there  can  be  nothing  on  the  side  of 
vice  to  answer  this,*because  there  is  nothing  in  the  human  mind  con- 
tradictory, as  the  logicians  speak,  to  virtue.  For  virtue  consists  in 
a  regard  to  what  is  right  and  reasonable,  as  being  so;  in  a  regard  to 
vericity,  justice,  charity,  in  themselves;  and  there  is  surely  no  such 
thing  as  a  like  natural  regard  to  falsehood,  injustice,  cruelty.  If  it 
be  thought  that  there  are  instances  of  an  approbation  of  vice,  as  such, 
in  itself,  and  for  its  own  sake,  (though  it  does  not  appear  to  me  that 
there  is  any  such  thing  at  alh  btt  supposing  there  be,)  it  is  evidently 
monstrous;  as  much  so  as  the  most  acknowledged  perversion  of  any 
passion  whatever.  Such  instances  of  perversion  then  being  left  out, 
as  merely  imaginary,  or,  however,  unnatural,  it  must  follow  from  the 
frame  of  our  nature,  and  from  our  condition,  in  the  respects  now 
described,  that  vice  cannot  at  all  be,  and  virtue  cannot  but  be  favored, 
as  such,  by  others,  upon  some  occasions,  and  happy  in  itself  in  some 
degree.  For  what  is  here  insisted  upon,  is  not  the  degree  in  which 
virtue  and  vice  are  thus  distinguished,  but  only  the  thing  itself,  that 
they  ;;re  so  in  some  degree,  though  the  whole  good  and  bad  effect  of 
virtue  and  vice,  as  such,  is  not  inconsiderable  in  degree.  But  that 
they  must  be  thus  distinguished  in  some  degree,  is  in  a  manner  ne- 
*  See  Dissertation  11, 


7^  Of  the  Moral  Part  I. 

cessary;  it  is  matter  of  fact  of  daily  experience,  ^ven  in  the  greatest 
confusion  of  human  affairs. 

It  is  not  pretended  but  that  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  happi- 
ness and  misery  appear  to  be  distributed  by  other  rules  than  only  the 
personal  merit  and  demerit  of  characters.  They  may  sometimes  be 
distributed  by  way  of  mere  discipline.  There  may  be  the  wisest  and 
best  reasons,  why  the  world  should  be  governed  by  general  lawg, 
from  whence  such  promiscuous  distribution  perhaps  must  follow,  and 
also  why  our  happiness  and  misery  should  be  put  in  each  other's 
power  in  the  degree  which  they  are.  And  these  things,  as  in  general 
they  contribute  to  the  rewarding  virtue  and  punishing  vice,  as  such, 
so  they  often  contribute  also,  not  to  the  inversion  of  this,  which  is 
impossible,  but  to  the  rendering  persons  prosperous,  though  wicked; 
afflicted,  though  righteous;  and,  which  is  worse,  to  the  rewarding 
some  actions,  though  vicious,  and  punishing  other  actions^  though  vir- 
tuous. But  all  this  cannot  drown  the  voice  of  nature  in  the  conduct 
of  Providence,  plainly  declaring  itself  for  virtue,  by  way  of  distinc- 
tion from  vice,  and  preference  to  it.  For,  our  being  so  constituted, 
as  that  virtue  and  vice  are  thus  naturally  favored  and  discountenan- 
ced, rewarded  and  punished  respectively,  as  such,  is  an  intuitive 
proof  of  the  intent  of  nature  that  it  should  be  so;  otherwise  the  con- 
stitution of  our  mind,  from  which  it  thus  immediately  and  directly 
proceeds,  would  be  absurd.  But  it  cannot  be  said,  because  virtuous 
actions  are  sometimes  punished,  and  vicious  actions  rewarded,  that 
nature  intended  it.  For,  though  this  great  disorder  is  brought  about, 
as  all  actions  are  done,  by  means  of  some  natural  passion,  yet  this 
may  be,  as  it  undoubtedly  is,  brought  about  by  the  perversion  of  such 
passion,  implanted  in  us  for  other  and  those  very  good  purposes. 
And  indeed  these  other  and  good  purposes,  even  of  every  passion, 
may  be  clearly  seen. 

We  have  then  a  declaration  in  some  degree  of  present  effect,  from 
him  who  is  supreme  in  nature,  which  side  he  is  of,  or  what  part  he 
takes:  a  declaration  for  virtue,  and  against  vice.*  So  far  therefore  as 
a  man  is  true  to  virtue,  to  veracity  and  justice,  to  equity  and  charity, 
and  the  right  of  the  case,  in  whatever  he  is  concerned,  so  far  he  is  on 
the  side  of  the  divine  administration,  and  cooperates  with  it;  and 
from  hence,  to  such  a  man  arises  naturally  a  secret  satisfaction  and 
sense  of  security,  and  iuiplicit  hope  of  somewhat  further.     And, 

V.  This  hope  is  confirmed  by  the  necessary  tendencies  of  virtue, 
which,  though  not  of  present  .effect,  yet  are  at  present  discernible  in 
nature,  and  so  afford  an  instance  of  so^^Bwhat  moral  in  the  essential 
constitution  of  it.  There  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  a  tendency  in 
virtue  and  vice  to  produce  the  good  and  bad  effects  now  mentioned 
in  a  greater  degree  than  they  do  in  fact  produce  them.  For  instance; 
good  and  bad  men  would  be  much  more  rewarded  and  punished,  as 
such,  were  it  not  that  justice  is  often  artificially  eluded,  that  charac- 
ters are  not  known,  and  many,  who  would  thus  favor  virtue  and  dis- 
courage vice,  are  hindered  from  doing  so  by  accidental  causes. 
These  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice  are  obvious  with  regard  to  indi- 
viduals. But  it  may  require  more  particularly  to  be  considered,  that 
power  is  a  society,  by  being  under  the  direction  of  virtue,  naturally 
increases,  and  has  a  necessary  tendency  to  prevail  over  opposite 


Chap.  III.  Government  of  God.  71 

power,  not  under  the  'direction  of  it;  in  like  mani^er  as  power,  by 
being  under  the  direction  of  reason,  increases,  and  has  a  tendency  to 
prevail  over  brute  force.  There  are  several  brute  creatures  of  equal, 
and  several  of  superior  strength,  to  that  of  men,  and  possibly  the 
sum  of  the  whole  strength  of  brutes  may  be  greater  than  that  of 
mankind;  but  reason  gives  us  the  advantage  and  superiority  over 
them,  and  thus  man  is  the  acknowledged  governing  animal  upon  the 
earth.  Nor  is  this  superiority  considered  by  any  as  accidental,  but 
as  what  reason  has  a  tendency,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  to  obtain. 
And  yet  perhaps  difficulties  may  be  raised  about  the  meaning  as 
well  as  the  triith  of  the  assertion,  that  virtue  has  the  like  tendency. 
To  obviate  these  difficulties,  let  us  see  more  distinctly  how  the 
case  stands  with  regard  to  reason,  which  is  so  readily  acknowledged 
to  have  this  advantageous  tendency.  Suppose  then  two  or  three 
men,  of  the  best  and  most  improved  understanding,  in  a  desolate 
open  plain,  attacked  by  ten  times  the  number  of  beasts  of  prey — 
would  their  reason  secure  them  the  victory  in  this  unequal  combat? 
Power  then,  though  joined  with  reason,  and  under  its  direction,  can- 
not be  expected  to  prevail  over  opposite  power,  though  merely  brutal, 
unless  the  one  bears  some  proportion  to  the  other.  Again — put  the 
imaginary  case,  that  rational  and  irrational  creatures  were  of  like 
«xternal  shape  and  manner;  it  is  certain,  before  there  were  opportu- 
nities for  the  first  to  distinguish  each  other,  to  separate  from  their  ad- 
versaries, and  to  form  an  union  among  themselves,  they  might  be  up- 
on a  level,  or  in  several  respects  upon  great  disadvantage,  though 
united  they  might  be  vastly  superior;  since  union  is  of  such  efficacy, 
that  ten  men,  united,  might  be  able  to  accomplish  what  ten  thousand 
of  the  same  natural  strength  and  understanding,  wholly  ununited, 
could  not.  In  this  case  then,  brute  force  might  more  than  maintain 
its  ground  against  reason,  for  want  of  union  among  the  rational  crea- 
tures. Or  suppose  a  number  of  men  to  land  upon  an  island  inhabit- 
ed only  by  wild  beasts,  a  number  of  men,  who,  by  the  regulations  of 
civil  government,  the  inventions  of  art,  and  the  experience  of  some 
years,  could  they  be  preserved  so  long,  would  be  really  sufficient  to 
subdue  the  wild  beasts,  and  to  preserve  themselves  in  security  from 
them;  yet  a  conjuncture  of  accidents  might  give  such  advantage  to 
the  irrational  animals,  as  that  they  might  at  once  overpower,  and 
even  extirpate  the  whole  species  of  rational  ones.  Length  of  time 
then,  proper  scope  and  opportunities  for  reason  to  exert  itself,  may 
be  absolutely  necessary  to  its  prevailing  over  brute  force.  Further 
still — there  are  many  instances  of  brutes  succeeding  in  attempts 
which  they  could  not  have  undertaken  had  not  their  irrational  nature 
rendered  them  incapable  of  foreseeing  the  danger  of  such  attempts, 
or  the  fury  of  passion  hindered  their  attending  to  it;  and  there  are 
instances  of  reason  and  real  prudence  preventing  men's  undertaking 
what,  it  hath  appeared  afterwards,  they  might  have  succeeded  in  by 
a  lucky  rashness.  A.nd  in  certain  conjunctures,  ignorance  and  fol- 
ly, weakness  and  discord,  may  have  their  advantages.  So  that  ra- 
tional animals  have  not  necessarily  the  superiority  over  irrational 
ones;  but,  how  improbable  soever  it  may  be,  it  is  evidently  possible, 
that,  in  some  globes,  the  latter  may  be  superior.  And  were  the  for- 
mer wholly  at  variance  and  disunited,  by  false  self  interest  and  envy, 


m  Of  the  Moral  PautI. 

by  treachery  and  injustice,  and  consequent  rage  and  malice  against 
each  other,  whilst  the  latter  were  firmly  united  among  themselves  by 
instinct,  this  might  greatly  contribute  to  the  introducing  such  an  in- 
verted order  of  things.  For  every  one  would  consider  it  as  inverted, 
since  reason  has,  in  the  nature  of  it,  a  tendency  to  prevail  over  brute 
force;  notwithstanding  the  possibility  it  may  not  prevail,  and  the 
necessity  which  there  is  of  many  concurring  circumstances  to  ren- 
der it  prevalent. 

Now  I  say,  virtue  in  a  society  has  a  like  tendency  to  procure 
superiority  and  additional  power,  whether  this  power  be  considered 
as  the  means  of  security  frorn  opposite  power,  or  of  obtaining  other 
advantages.  And  it  has  this  tendency,  by  rendering  public  good  an 
object  and  end  to  every  member  of  the  society;  by  putting  every  one 
upon  consideration  and  diligence,  recollection  and  self  government, 
both  in  order  to  see  what  is  the  most  effectual  method,  and  also  in 
order  to  perform  their  proper  part  for  obtaining  and  preserving  itj 
by  uniting  a  society  within  itself,  and  so  increasing  its  strength; 
and,  which  is  particularly  to  be  mentioned,  uniting  it  by  means  of 
veracity  and  justice.  For  as  these  last  are  principal  bonds  of  union, 
so  benevolence  or  public  spirit,  undirected,  unrestrained  by  them,  is, 
nobody  knows  what. 

And  suppose  the  invisible  world,  and  the  invisible  dispensations  of 
Providence,  to  be  in  any  sort  analogous  to  what  appears,  or  that  both 
together  make  up  one  uniform  scheme,  the  two  parts  of  which,  the 
part  which  we  see,  and  that  which  is  beyond  our  observation,  are 
analogous  to  each  other,  then  there  must  be  a  like  natural  tendency 
in  the  derived  power,  throughout  the  universe,  under  the  direction 
of  virtue,  to  prevail  in  general  over  that  which  is  not  under  its  pro- 
tection, as  there  is  in  reason,  derived  reason  in  the  universe,  to  pre- 
vail over  brute  force.  But  then,  in  order  to  the  prevalence  of  virtue, 
or  that  it  may  actually  produce  what  it  has  a  tendency  to  produce, 
the  like  concurrences  are  necessary  as  are  to  the  prevalence  of  rea- 
son. There  must  be  some  proportion  between  the  natural  power  or 
force  which  is,  and  that  which  is  not,  under  the  direction  of  virtue; 
there  must  be  sufficient  length  of  time;  for  the  complete  success  of 
virtue,  as  of  reason,  cannot,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  be  other- 
wise than  gradual;  there  must  be,  as  one  may  speak,  a  fair  field  of 
trial,  a  stage  large  and  extensive  enough,  proper  occasions  and  op- 
portunities, for  the  virtuous  to  join  together  to  exert  themselves 
against  lawless  force,  and  to  reap  the  fruit  of  their  united  labors. 
Now  indeed  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the  disproportion  between  the 
good  and  bad,  even  here  on  earth,  is  not  so  great  but  that  the  former 
have  natural  power  sufficient  to  their  prevailing  to  a  considerable 
degree,  if  circumstances  would  permit  this  power  to  be  united.  For 
much  less,  very  much  less  power  under  the  direction  of  virtue,  would 
prevail  over  much  greater  not  under  the  direction  of  it.  However, 
good  men  over  the  face  of  the  earth  cannot  unite,  as  for  other  rea- 
sons, so  because  they  cannot  be  sufficiently  ascertained  of  each 
other's  characters.  And  the  known  course  of  human  things,  the 
scene  we  are  now  passing  through,  particularly  the  shortness  of  life, 
denies  to  virtue  its  full  scope  in  several  other  respects.  The  natural 
tendency,  which  we  have  been  considering,  though  real,  is  hindered 


Chap.  III.  Qovernment  of  God.  75 

from  being  carried  into  effect  in  the  present  state;  but  these  hin- 
drances may  be  removed  in  a  future  one.  Virtue,  to  borrow  the 
Christian  allusion,  is  militant  here,  and  various  untowat-d  accidents 
contribute  to  its  being  often  overborne;  but  it  may  combat  with 
greater  advantage  hereafter,  and  prevail  completely,  and  enjoy  its 
consequent  rewards  in  some  future  states.  Neglected  as  it  is,  per- 
haps unknown,  perhaps  despised  and  oppressed  here,  there  may  be 
scenes  in  eternity  lasting  enough,  and  in  every  other  way  adapted, 
to  afford  it  a  sufficient  sphere  of  action,  and  a  sufficient  spere  for  the 
natural  consequences  of  it  to  follow  in  fact.  If  the  soul  be  naturally 
immortal,  and  this  state  be  a  progress  towards  a  future  One;  as  child- 
hood is  towards  mature  age,  good  men  may  naturally  unite,  not  only 
amongst  themselves,  but  also  with  other  orders  of  virtuous  creatures, 
in  that  future  state.  For  virtue,  from  the.very  nature  of  it,  is  a  prin- 
ciple and  bond  of  union,  in  some  degree,  amongst  all  who  are  endued 
■with  it,  and  known  to  each  other;  so  as  that  by  it  a  good  man  cannot 
but  recommend  himself  to  the  favor  and  protection  of  all  virtuous 
beings,  throughout  the  whole  universe,  who  can  be  acquainted  with 
his  character,  and  can  any  way  interpose  in  his  behalf  in  any  part  of 
his  duration.  And  one  might  add,  that  suppose  all  this  advantageous 
tendency  of  virtue  to  become  effect,  amongst  one  or  more  orders  of 
creatures,  in  any  distant  scenes  and  periods,  and  to  be  seen  by  any 
orders  of  vicious  creatures  throughout  the  universal  kingdom  of  God, 
this  happy  effect  of  virtue  would  have  a  tendency,  by  way  of  exam- 
ple, and  possibly  in  other  ways,  to  amend  those  of  them  who  are  capa- 
ble of  amendment,  and  being  recovered  to  a  just  sense  of  virtue.  If 
our  notions  of  the  plan  of  Providence  were  enlarged,  in  any  sort  pro- 
portionably  to  what  late  discoveries  have  enlarged  our  views  with 
respect  to  the  material  world,  representations  of  this  kind  would  not 
appear  absurd  or  extravagant.  However,  they  are  not  to  be  taken  as 
intended  for  a  literal  delineation  of  what  is  in  fact  the  particular 
scheme  of  the  universe,  which  cannot  be  known  without  revelation; 
for  suppositions  are  not  to  be  looked  on  as  true,  because  not  incredi- 
ble, but  they  are  mentioned  to  shew,  that  our  finding  virtue  to  be  hin- 
dered from  procuring  to  itself  such  superiority  and  advantages  is  no 
objection  against  its  having,  in  the  essential  nature  ot  the  thing,  a 
tendency  to  procure  them.  And  the  suppositions  now  mentioned 
do  plainly  she.w  this;  for  they  shew  that  these  hindrances  are  so  far 
from  being  necessary,  that  we  ourselves  can  easily  conceive  how  they 
may  be  removed  in  future  states,  and  full  scope  be  granted  to  virtue. 
And  all  these  advantageous  tendencies  of  it  are  to  be  considered  as 
declarations  of  God  in  its  favour.  This,  however,  is  taking  a  pretty 
large  compass;  though  it  is  certain  that,  as  the  material  world  ap- 
pears to  be,  in  a  manner,  boundless  and  immense,  there  must  be 
some  scheme  of  Providence  vast  in  proportion  to  it. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  earth  our  habitation,  and  we  shall  see  this 
happy  tendency  of  virtue,  by  imagining  an  instance  not  so  vast  and 
remote;  by  supposing  a  kingdom  or  society  of  men  upon  it,  perfectly 
virtuous,  for  a  succession  of  many  ages,  to  which,  if  you  please  may 
be  given  a  situation  advantageous  for  universal  monarchy.  In  such 
a  state  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  faction;  but  men  of  the  great- 
est capacity  would  of  course,  all  along,  have  the  chief  direction  of 


74  Of  the  Moral  Part  I. 

affairs  willingly  yielded  to  them:  and  they  would  share  it  among 
themselves  without  envy.  Each  of  these  would  have  the  part  assigned 
him  to  whicli  his  genius  was  peculiarly  adapted;  and  others,  whffhad 
not  any  distinguished  genius,  would  be  safe,  and  think  themselves 
very  iiappy,  by  being;  under  the  protection  and  guidance  of  those  who 
had.  Public  determinations  would  really  be  the  result  of  the  united 
wisdom  of  tliC  community^  and  they  would  faithfully  be  executed,  by 
thfc  united  strength  of  it.  Some  would  in  a  higher  way  contribute, 
but  ail  would  in  some  way  contribute,  to  the  public  prosperity;  and 
in  it,  each  would  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  own  virtue.  And  as  in  jus- 
tice, whether  by  fraud  or  force,  would  be  unknown  among  them- 
selves, so  they  would  be  sufficiently  secured  from  it  in  their  neigh- 
bours: for  cunniog  and  false  self  interest,  confederacies  in  injustice, 
ever  slight,  and  accompanied  with  faction  and  intestine  treachery; 
these  on  one  hand  would  be  found  mere  childish  folly  and  weakness, 
when  set  in  opposition  against  wisdom,  public  spirit,  union  inviola- 
ble, and  fidelity  on  the  other;  allowing  both  a  sufficient  length  of 
years  to  try  their  force.  Add  the  general  influence  which  such  a 
kingdom  would  have  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  by  way  of  example 
particularly,  and  the  reverence  which  would  be  paid  it.  It  would 
planely  be  superior  to  all  others,  and  the  world  must  gradually  come 
under  its  empire;  not  by  means  of  lawless  violence,  but  partly  by 
what  must  be  allowed  to  be  just  conquest,  and  partly  by  other  king- 
doms submitting  themselves  voluntarily  to  it,  throughout  a  course  of 
ages,  and  claiming  its  protection,  one  after  another,  in  successive 
exigencies.  The  head  of  it  would  be  an  universal  monarch,  in  an- 
other sense  than  any  mortal  has  yet  been;  and  the  eastern  style  would 
be  literally  applicable  to  him,  that  all  people,  nations  and  languages 
should  serve  him.  And  though  indeed  our  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  and  the  whole  history  of  mankind,  shew  the  impossibility, 
without  some  miraculous  interposition,  that  a  number  of  men,  here 
on  earth,  should  unite  in  one  society  or  government,  in  the  fear  of 
God  and  universal  practice  of  virtue;  and  that  such  a  government 
should  continue  so  united  for  a  succession  of  ages;  yet  admitting  or 
supposing  this,  the  effect  would  be  as  now  drawn  out.  And  thus,  for 
instance,  the  wonderful  power  and  prosperity  promised  to  the  Jewish 
nation  in  the  scripture,  would  be,  in  a  great  measure,  the  consequence 
of  what  is  predicted  of  them — that  the  people  should  be  all  righteous 
aud  inherit  the  land  for  ever^*  were  we  to  understand  the  latter 
phrase  of  a  long  continuance  only,  sufficient  to  give  things  time  to 
work.  The  predictions  of  this  kind,  for  there  are  many  of  them, 
t  annot  come  to  pass  in  the  present  known  course  of  nature;  but  sup- 
pose them  come  to  pass,  and  then  the  dominion  and  preeminence 
promised  must  naturally  follow,  to  a  very  considerable  degree. 

Consider  now  the  general  system  of  religion;  that  the  government 
of  the  world  is  uniform,  and  one,  and  moral;  that  virtue  and  right 
shall  finally  have  the  advantage  and  prevail  over  fraud  and  lawless 
force,  over  the  deceits  as  well  as  the  violence  of  wickedness,  un- 
der the  conduct  of  one  supreme  Governor;  and  from  the  observations 
above  made,  it  will  appear,  that  God  has,  by  our  reason,  givea  us  to 

•  Isaiah  Ix.  21, 


Chap.  III.  Government  of  God,  75 

see  a  peculiar  connexion  in  the  several  parts  of  this  scheme,  and  a 
tendency  towards  the  completion  of  it,  arising  out  of  the  very  nature 
of  virtue;  which  tendency  is  to  be  considereji  as  somewhat  m^ral  in 
the  essential  constitution  of  things.  If  any  one  should  think  all 
this  to  be  of  little  importance,  I  desire  him  to  consider  what  he  would 
think  if  vice  had,  essentially  and  in  its  nature,  these  advan+ageous 
tendencies;  or  if  virtue  had  essentially  the  direct  contrary  <^  ..es. 

But  it  may  be  objected  that,  notwithstanding  all  these  natural  ef- 
fects and  these  natural  tendencies  of  virtue,  yet  things  may  be  now 
going  on  throughout  the  universe,  and  may  go  on  hereafter,  in  the 
same  mixed  way  as  here  at  present  upon  earth;  virtue  sometimes 
prosperous,  sometimes  depressed;  vice  sometimes  punished,  some- 
times successful.  The  answer  to  which  is,  that  it  is  not  the  purpose 
of  this  chapter,  nor  of  this  treatise,  properly  to  prove  God's  perfect 
moral  goverfiment  over  the  world,  or  the  truth  of  religion,  but  to  ob- 
serve what  there  is  in  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature  to  con- 
firm the  proper  proof  of  it,  supposed  to  be  known;  and  that  the 
weight  of  the  foregoing  observations  to  this  purpose  may  be  thus  dis- 
tinctly proved.  Pleasure  and  pain  are,  indeed,  to  a  certain  degree, 
say  to  a  very  high  degree,  distributed  amongst  us  without  any  appa- 
rent regard  to  the  merit  or  demerit  of  characters-  And  were  there 
nothing  else,  concerning  this  matter,  discernible  in  the  constitution 
and  course  «f  nature,  to  hope  or  to  fear  that  men  would  be  reward 
ed  or  punished  hereafter  according  to  their  deserts;  which,  however, 
it  is  to  be  remarked,  implies  that  even  then  there  would  be  no  ground 
from  appearances  to  think,  that  vice  upon  the  whole  would  have  the 
advantage,  rather  than  that  virtue  would.  And  thus  the  proof  of  a 
future  state  of  retribution  would  rest  upon  the  usual  known  argu- 
ments for  it;  which  are,  I  think,  plainly  unanswerable,  and  would  be 
80,  though  there  were  no  additional  confirmation  of  them  from  the 
things  above  insisted  on:  but  these  things  are  a  very  strong  confirma- 
tion of  them.     For, 

First,  they  shew  that  the  author  of  nature  is  not  indifferent  to  vir- 
tue and  vice.  They  amount  to  a  declaration  from  him.  determinate 
and  not  to  be  evaded,  in  favor  of  one,  and  against  the  other;  such  a 
declaration,  as  there  is  nothiog  to  be  set  over  against  or  answer,  on 
the  part  of  vice,  ^o  that  were  a  man,  laying  aside  the  proper  proof 
of  religion,  to  determine  from  the  course  of  nature  only,  wh»?ther  it 
were  most  probable  that  tlie  righteous  or  the  wicked  would  have  the 
advantage  in  a  future  life;  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  he  would 
determine  the  probability  to  be,  that  the  former  would.  The  course 
of  nature  then,  in  the  view  of  it  now  given,  furnishes  us  with  a  real 
practical  proof  of  the  obligations  of  religion. 

Secondly,  when,  conformably  to  what  religion  teaches  us,  God 
shall  reward  and  punish  virtue  and  vice,  as  such,  so  as  that  every 
one  shall,  upon  tlie  whole,  have  his  deserts,  this  distributive  justice 
will  not  be  a  thing  different  in  kind,  but  only  in  degree,  from  what 
we  experience  in  his  present  government.  It  will  be  that  in  effect, 
towards  which  we  now  see  a  tendency.  It  will  be  no  more  than  the 
completion  of  that  moral  government,  the  principles  and  beginning 
of  which  have  been  shewn,  beyond  dispute,  discernible  in  the  pres* 
ent  constitution  and  course  o(  nature.     And  from  hence  it  follows, 


7%  Of  the  Moral  Part  h 

Thirdly,  that  as  under  the  natural  government  of  God,  our  expe- 
rience of  those  kinds  and  degrees  of  happiness  and  misery  which 
we  do  experience  at  present,  gives  just  ground  to  hope  for  and  to 
fear  higher  degrees  and  other  kinds  of  both  in  a  future  state,  suppos- 
ing a  future  state  admitted,  so  under  his  moral  government,  our  ex- 
perience, that  virtue  and  vice  are,  in  the  manners  above  mentioned, 
actually  rewarded  and  punished  at  present,  in  a  certain  dejree,  gives 
just  ground  to  hope  and  to  fear  that  they  may  be  rewarded  and  pun- 
ished in  an  higher  degree  hereafter.  It  is  acknowledged  indeed  that 
this  alone  is  not  sufficient  ground  to  think  that  they  actually  will  be 
rewarded  and  punished  in  a  higher  degree,  rather  than  in  a  lower; 
but  then, 

Lastly,  there  is  sufficient  ground  to  think  so,  from  the  good  and 
bad  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice.  For  these  tendencies  are  essen- 
tial, and  founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  whereas  the  hindrances  to 
their  becoming  effect,  are,  in  numberless  cases,  not  necessary,  but 
artificial  only.  Now  it  may  be  much  more  strongly  argued,  that 
these  tendencies,  as  well  as  the  actual  rewards  and  punishments  of 
virtue  and  vice,  which  arise  directlyout  of  the  nature  of  things,  wiW 
remain  hereafter,  than  that  the  accidental  hindrances  of  them  will. 
And  if  these  hindrances  do  not  remain,  those  rewards  and  punish- 
ments cannot  but  be  carried  on  much  further  towards  the  perfection 
of  moral  government,  i.  e.  the  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice  will  be- 
cnme  effect;  but  when,  or  where,  or  in  what  particular  way,  cannot 
be  known  at  all,  but  by  revelation. 

UporTlhe  whole,  there  is  a  kind  of  moral  government  implied  in 
God's  natural  government;*  virtue  and  vice  are  naturally  rewarded 
and  punjshed  as  beneficial  and  mischievous  to  society,!  and  reward- 
ed and  punished  directly  as  virtue  and  vice  if  The  notion  then  of  a 
moral  scheme  of  government  is  not  fictitious  but  natural,  for  it  is 
-«uggested  to  our  thoughts  by  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature; 
and  the  execution  of  this  scheme  is  actually  begun,  in  the  instances 
here  mentioned.  And  these  things  are  to  be  considered  as  a  declara- 
tion of  the  author  of  nature  for  virtue  and  against  vice;  they  give  a 
credibility  to  the  supposition  of  their  being  rewarded  and  punished 
hereafter,  and  also  ground  to  hope  and  to  fear  that  they  may  be  re- 
warded and  punished  in  higher  degrees  than  they  are  here.  And  as 
all  this  is  confirmed,  so  the  argument  for  religion  from  the  constitu- 
tion and  course  of  nature  is  carried  on  farther,  by  observing,  that 
there  are  natural  tendencies,  and,  in  innumerable  cases,  only  artifi- 
cial hindrances,  to  this  moral  scheme's  being  carried  on  much  farther 
towards  perfection  than  it  is  at  present.§  The  notion  then  of  a 
moral  scheme  of  governmer.t  much  more  perfect  than  what  is  seen, 
is  not  a  fictitious  but  a  natural  notion,  for  it  is  suggested  to  our 
thoughts  by  the  essential  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice.  And  these 
tendencies  are  to  be  considered  as  intimati«ns,  as  implicit  promises 
and  threatenings  from  the  author  of  nature,  of  much  greater  rewards 
and  punishments  to  follow  virtue  and  vice  than  do  at  present.  And 
iod.?ed,  every  natural  tendency  which  is  to  continue,  but  which  is 
hindered  from  becoming  effect  by  only  accirfewiai  causes,  affords  a 

•  P.  fiS.        T  P.  06.        \  P  C6,  &c.        §  P.  70,  &c. 


Chap.  III.  GovernnmU  of  God.  77 

presumption  that  such  tendency  will,  some  time  or  other,  become 
effect;  a  presumption  in  degree  proportionable  to  the  length  of  the 
duration  through  which  such  tendency  will  continue.  And  from 
these  things  together  arises  a  real  presumption,  that  the  moral  scheme 
of  government  established  in  nature  shall  be  carried  on  much  far- 
ther towards  perfection  hereafter,  and,  I  think,  a  presumption  that 
it  will  be  absolutely  completed.  But  from  these  things,  joined  with 
tlie  moral  nature  which  God  has  given  us,  considered  as  given  us  by 
him,  arises  a  practical  proof*  that  it  will  be  completed;  a  proof  from 
fact,  and  therefore  a  distinct  one  from  that  which  is  deduced  from 
the  eternal  and  unalterable  relations,  the  fitness  and  unfitness  of 
actions. 

*  See  this  proof  drawn  out  brieflf.  Chap  vi. 


jsft.  Of  a  State  of  Trial  Part  I. 


CHAP.  IV. 


Of  a  State  of  Probatiotif  as  implying  Trialy  Difficulties,  and  Danger. 

THE  general  doctrine  of  religion,  that  our  present  life  is  a  state 
of  probation  for  a  future  one,  comprehends  under  it  several  particu- 
lar things  distinct  from  each  other.  But  the  first  and  most  common 
meaning  of  it  seems  to  be,  that  our  future  interest  is  now  depending, 
and  depending  upon  ourselves;  that  we  have  scope  and  opportunities 
here  for  that  good  and  bad  beha.viour,  which  God  will  reward  and 
punish  hereafter;  together  with  temptati  >ns  to  one,  as  well  as  induce- 
ments of  reason  to  the  other.  And  this  is,  in  great  measure,  the 
same  with  saying,  that  we  are  under  the  moral  government  of  God, 
and  to  give  an  account  of  our  actions  to  him.  For  the  notion  of  a 
future  account  and  general  righteous  judgment  implies  some  sort  of 
temptations  to  what  is  wrong,  otherwise  there  would  be  no  moral 
possibility  of  doing  wrong,  nor  ground  forjudgment  or  discrimination. 
JBut  there  is  this  diiFerence,  that  the  word  probation  is  more  distinctly 
and  particularly  expressive  of  allurements  to  wrong,  or  difi&culties 
in  adhering  uniformly  to  what  is  right,  and  of  the  danger  of  miscar- 
rying by  such  temptations,  than  the  words  moral  government.  A 
state  of  probation  then,  as  thus  particularly  implying  in  it  trial,  diffi- 
culties and  danger,  may  require  to  be  considered  distinctly  by  itself. 

And  as  the  moral  government  of  God,  which  religion  teaches  us, 
iniplies  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  trial  with  regard  to  a  future  world, 
so  also  hi;;  natural  government  over  us  implies  that  we  are  in  a  state 
of  trial  in  the  like  sense  with  regard  to  the  present  world.  Natural 
government  by  rewards  and  punishments  as  much  implies  natural 
trial  as  moral  government  does  moral  trial.  The  natural  government 
of  God  here  meant,*  consists  in  his  annexing  pleasure  to  some  actions 
and  pain  to  others,  which  are  in  our  power  to  do  or  forbear,  and  in 
giving  us  notice  of  such  appointment  beforehand.  This  necessarily 
implies,  that  he  has  made  our  happines  and  misery,  or  our  interest, 
to  depend  rn  part  upon  ourselves.  And  so  far  as  men  have  temptations 
to  any  course  of  action  which  will  probably  occasion  them  greater 
temporal  inconvenience  and  uneasiness  than  satisfaction,  so  far  their 
temporal  interest  is  in  danger  from  themselves,  or  they  are  in  a  state 
of  trial  with  respect  to  it.  Now  people  often  blame  others,  and  even 
themselves,  for  their  misconduct  in  their  temporal  concerns.  And 
we  find  many  are  greatly  wanting  to  themselves,  and  miss  of  that 
natural  happiness  which  they  might  have  obtained  in  the  present  life; 
perhaps  every  one  does  in  some  degree.  But  many  run  themselves 
into  great  inconvenience,  and  into  extreme  distress  and  misery;  not 

•  Chap.  jj. 


Chap.  IV.  Of  a  State  of  Trial.  79 

through  incapacity  of  knowing  better,  and  doing  better  for  themselves 
which  would  be  nothing  to  the  present  purpose,  but  through  their  owe 
fault.  And  these  things  necessarily  imply  temptation,  and  danger 
of  miscarrying,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  with  respect  to  our  worldly 
interest  or  happiness.  Every  one  too,  without  having  religion  in  his 
thoughts,  speaks  of  the  hazards  which  young  people  run,  upon  their 
setting  out  in  the  world;  hazards  from  other  causes  than  merely  their 
ignorance  and  unavoidable  accidents.  And  some  courses  of  vice, 
at  least,  being  contrary  to  men's  worldly  interest  or  good,  tempta- 
tions to  these  must  at  the  same  time  be  temptations  to  forego  our 
present  and  our  future  interest.  Thus  in  our  natural  or  temporal 
capacity  we  are  in  a  state  of  trial,  i.  e.  of  difficulty  and  danger  anal- 
ogous or  like  to  our  moral  and  religious  trial. 

This  will  more  distinctly  appear  to  any  one  who  thinks  it  worth 
while  more  distinctly  to  consider  what  it  is  which  constitutes  our 
trial  in  both  capacities,  and  to  observe  how  mankind  behave  under  it- 

And  that  which  constitutes  this  our  trial,  in  both  these  capacities, 
must  be  somewhat  either  in  our  external  circumstances,  or  in  our 
nature.  For,  on  the  one  hand,  persons  may  be  betrayed  into  wrong 
behaviour  upon  surprise,  or  overcome  upon  any  other  very  singular 
and  extraordinary  external  occasions,  who  would  otherwise  have  pre- 
served their  character  of  prudence  and  of  virtue;  in  which  cases, 
every  one,  in  speaking  of  the  wrong  behaviour  of  these  persons,  would 
impdte  it  to  such  particular  external  circumstances:  and  on  the  other 
hand,  men  who  have  contracted  habits  of  vice  and  folly  of  any  kind, 
or  have  some  particular  passions  in  excess,  will  seek  opportunities, 
and,  as  it  were,  go  out  of  their  way  to  gratify  themselves  in  these 
respects,  at  the  expense  of  their  wisdom  and  their  virtue;  led  to  it, 
as  every  one  would  say,  not  by  external  temptations,  but  by  such 
habits  and  passions.  And  the  account  of  this  last  case  is,  that  par- 
ticular passions  are  no  more  coincident  with  prudence,  or  that  rea- 
sonable self  love,  the  end  of  which  is  our  worldly  interest,  than  they 
are  with  the  principle  of  virtue  and  religion,  but  often  draw  contrary 
ways  to  one  as  well  as  to  the  other;  and  so  such  particular  passions 
are  as  much  temptations  to  act  imprudently  with  regard  to 
our  worldly  interest,  as  to  act  viciously.*  However,  as  when' 
we  say,  men  are  misled  by  external  circumstances  of  tempta- 
tion, it  cannot  but  be  understood  that  there  is  somewhat  within 
themselves  to  render  those  circumstances  temptations  or  to  render 
them  susceptible  of  impressions  from  them;  so  when  we  say,  they  are 
misled  by  passions,  it  is  always  supposed  that  there  are  occasions, 
circumstances  and  objects,  exciting  these  passions,  and  affording 
means  for  gratifying  them.  And  therefore,  temptations  from  within 
and  from  without  coincide  and  mutually  imply  each  other.  Now  the 
several  external  objects  of  the  appetites,  passions  and  affections 
being  present  to  the  senses,  or  offering  themselves  to  the  mind,  and 
so  exciting  emotions  suitable  to  their  nature,  not  only  in  cases  w>(jre 
they  can  be  gratified  consistently  with  innocence  and  prudence,  but 
also  in  cases  where  they  cannot,  and  yet  can  be  gratified  imprudently 
and  viciously;  this  as  really  puts  them  in  danger  of  voluntarily  fore- 
going their  present  interest  or  good  as  their  future,  and  as  really 

•  See  Sermons  preached  at  the  Rolls,  1726,  2d  Ed.  p.  205,  &c.    Pref.  p.  Uj  ^'^' 
Serra.  p.  21.  &c. 


8^  Of  a  State  of  Trial.  Part  I. 

renders  self  denial  as  necessary  to  secure  one  as  the  other,  i.  e.  we 
are  in  a  like  state  of  trial  with  respect  to  both,  by  the  very  same 
passions,  excited  by  the  very  same  means-  Thus  mankind  having  a 
temporal  interest  depending  upon  themselves,  and  a  prudent  course 
of  behaviour  being  necessary  to  secure  it,  passions  inordinately  ex- 
cited, whether  by  means  of  example,  or  by  any  other  external  circum- 
stance, towards  such  objects,  at  such  times,  or  in  such  degrees,  as 
that  they  cannot  be  gratified  consistently  with  worldly  prudence,  are 
temptations,  dangerous  and  too  often  successful  temptations,  to  forego 
a  greater  temporal  good  for  a  less;  i.  e.  to  forego  what  is,  upon  the 
whole,  our  temporal  interest,  for  the  sake  of  a  present  gratification. 
This  is  a  description  of  our  state  of  trial  in  our  temporl  capacity. 
Substitute  now  the  wqvA  future  for  temporal,  and  virtue  ioY prudence, 
and  it  will  be  just  as  proper  a  description  of  our  state  of  trial  in  our 
religious  capacity;  so  analogous  are  they  to  each  other. 

If,  from  consideration  of  this  our  like  state  of  trial  in  both  capa- 
cities, we  go  on  tu  observe  farther  how  mankind  behave  under  it,  we 
shall  find  there  are  some  who  have  so  little  sense  of  it  that  thy  scarce 
look  beyond  the  passing  day;  they  are  so  taken  up  with  present  grat- 
ifications as  to  have,  in  a  manner,  no  feeling  of  consequences,  no 
regard  to  their  future  ease  or  fortune  in  this  life,  any  more  than  to 
their  happiness  in  another.  Some  appear  to  be  blinded  and  deceived 
by  inordinate  passion  in  their  worldly  concerns  as  much  as  in  religion. 
Others  are  not  deceived,  but  as  it  were  forcibly  carried  away  by  the 
like  passions,  against  their  better  judgment  and  feeble  resolutions  too 
of  acting  better.  And  there  are  men,  and  truly  they  are  not  a  few, 
who  shamelessly  avow,  not  their  interest,  but  their  mere  will  and 
pleasure,  to  be  their  law  of  life,  and  who,  in  open  ilefiance  of  every 
thing  that  is  reasonable,  will  go  on  in  a  course  of  vicious  extrava- 
gance, foreseeing,  with  no  remorse  and  little  fear,  that  it  will  be  their 
temporal  ruin,  and  some  of  them  under  the  apprehension  of  the  con- 
sequences of  wickedness  in  another  state.  And  to  speak  in  the  most 
moderate  way,  human  creatures  are  not  only  continually  liable  to  go 
wrong  voluntarily,  but  we  see  likewise  that  they  often  actually  do 
so,  with  respect  to  their  temporal  interest  as  well  as  with  respect  to 
religion. 

Thus  our  difficulties  and  dangers,  or  our  trials,  in  our  temporal 
and  our  religious  capacity,  as  they  proceed  from  the  same  causes,  and 
have  the  same  effect  upon  men's  behaviour,  are  evidently  analogous 
and  of  the  same  kind. 

It  may  be  added,  that  as  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  miscarrying 
in  our  religious  state  of  trial  are  greatly  increased,  and  one  is  ready 
to  think  in  a  manner  wholly  made,  by  the  ill  behaviour  of  others:  by 
a  wrong  education,  wrong  in  a  moral  sense,  sometimes  positively 
vicious;  by  general  bad  example;  by  the  dishonest  artifices  which  are 
got  into  business  of  all  kinds;  and,  in  very  many  parts  of  the  world, 
by  i*Hgion'sbeing  corrupted  into  superstitions,  which  indulge  men 
in  their  vices;  so  in  like  manner,  the  difficulties  of  conducting  our- 
selves prudently  in  respect  to  our  present  interest,  and  our  danger 
of  being  led  aside  from  pursuing  it,  are  greatly  increased  by  a  foolish 
education;  and,  after  we  come  to  mature  age,  by  the  extravagance 
and  carelessnnss  of  others  whom  Me  liave  intercourse  vith,  and  by 


Chap.  IV.  Of  a  State  of  Trial.  81 

raistaken  notions,  very  generally  prevalent,  and  taken  up  fron*.  cotn- 
niuii  opinion,  concerning  temporal  iiappiness,  and  wherein  it  consists. 
And  persons,  by  their  own  neji;Jigence  and  folly  in  their  temporal 
affairs,  no  less  than  by  a  course  of  vice,  bring  themselves  into  new- 
difficulties,  and,  by  habits  of  indulgence,  become  less  qualified  to  go 
through  them;  and  one  irregularity  after  another  embarrasses  things 
to  such  a  degree,  that  they  know  not  whereabout  they  are,  and  oftea 
makes  the  path  of  conduct  so  intricate  and  perplexed,  that  it  is 
difficult  to  trace  it  out,  diflicult  even  to  determine  what  is  the  pru- 
dent or  the  moral  part.  Thus,  for  instance,  wrong  behaviour  in  one 
stage  of  life,  youth;  wrong,  I  mean,  considering  ourselves  only  in 
our  temporal  capacity,  without  taking  in  religion;  this,  in  several 
ways,  increases  the  difficulties  of  right  behaviour  in  mature  age;  i.  e. 
puts  us  into  a  more  disadvantageous  state  of  trial  in  our  temporal 
capacity. 

We  are  an  inferior  part  of  the  creation  of  God.  There  are  nat- 
ural appearances  of  our  being  in  a  state  of  degradation.  A.nd  we 
certainly  are  in  a  condition,  which  does  not  seem,  by  any  means,  the 
most  advantageous  we  could  imagine  or  deserve, either  in  our  natural 
or  morul  capacity,  for  securing  either  our  present  or  future  interest. 
However,  this  condition,  low  and  careful  and  uncertain  as  it  is,  does 
not  afford  any  just  ground  of  complaint.  For,  as  men  may  manage 
their  temporal  affairs  with  prudence,  and  so  pass  their  days  here  on 
earth  in  tolorable  ease  and  satisfaction,  by  a  moderate  degree  of 
care,  so  likewise  with  regard  to  religion,  there  is  no  more  required 
than  what  they  are  well  able  to  do,  and  what  they  must  be  greatly 
wanting  to  themselves  if  they  neglect.  And  for  persons  to  have  that 
put  upon  them  which  they  are  well  able  to  go  through,  and  no  more, 
we  naturally  consider  as  an  equitable  thing,  supposing  it  done  by 
proper  authority.  Nor  have  we  any  more  reason  to  complain  of  it, 
with  regard  to  the  Author  of  nature,  than  of  his  not  having  given  us 
other  advantages,  belonging  to  other  orders  of  creatures. 

But  the  thing  here  insisted  upon  is,  that  the  state  of  trial,  whicK 
religion  teaches  us  we  are  in,  ,is  rendered  credible  by  its  being 
throughout  uniform  and  of  a  piece  with  the  general  conduct  of  Prov- 
idence towards  us,  in  all  other  respects  within  the  compass  of  our 
knowledge.  Indeed  if  mankind,  considered  in  their  natural  capacity, 
as  inhabitants  of  this  world  only,  found  themselves,  from  their  birtli 
to  their  death,  in  a  settled  state  of  security  and  happiness,  without 
any  solicitude  or  thought  of  their  own;  or  if  they  were  in  no  danger 
of  being  brought  into  inconveniences  and  distress,  by  carelessness, 
or  the  foily  of  passion,  through  bad  example,  the  treachery  of  others, 
or  the  deceitful  appearances  of  things;  were  this  our  natural  condi- 
tion, then  it  might  seem  strange,  and  be  some  presumption  against 
the  truth  of  religion,  that  it  represents  our  future  and  more  general 
interest,  as  not  secure  of  course,  but  as  depending  upon  our  behaviour, 
and  requiring  recollection  and  self  government  to  obtain  it.  For  it 
might  be  alleged,  "  what  you  say  is  our  condition  in  one  respect  is 
not  in  any  wise  of  a  sort  with  what  we  find,  by  experience,  our  con- 
dition is  in  another.  Our  whole  present  interest  is  secured  to  our 
hands,  without  any  solicitude  qf  ours;  and  why  should  not  our  future 
interest,  if  we  have  anv  such,  be  so  too.''"  But  since,  on  the  contrary, 
L 


82  Of  a  State  of  Trial.  Paiit  I. 

thought  and  consideration,  the  voluntary  denying  ourselves  many 
things  which  we  desire,  and  a  course  of  behaviour  far  from  being 
always  agreeable  to  us,  are  absolutely  necessary  to  our  acting  even 
a  common  decent  and  common  prudent  part,  so  as  to  pass  with  any 
satisfaction  through  the  present  world,  and  be  received  upon  any 
tolerable  good  terms  in  it;  since  this  is  the  case,  all  presumption 
against  self  denial  and  attention  being  necessary  to  secure  our  higher 
interest,  is  removed.  Had  we  not  experience,  it  might,  perhaps  spe- 
ciously, be  urged,  that  it  is  improbable  any  kind  of  hazard  and  dan- 
ger should  be  put  upon  us  by  an  infinite  Being,  when  every  thing 
which  is  hazard  and  danger  in  our  manner  of  conception,  and  will 
end  in  error,  confusion  and  misery,  is  now  already  certain  in  his 
fore-knowledge.  And  indeed,  why  any  thing  of  hazard  and  danger 
should  be  put  upon  such  frail  creatures  as  we  are,  may  well  be 
thought  a  difficulty  in  speculation,  and  cannot  but  be  so  till  we  know 
the  whole,  or,  however,  much  more  of  the  case.  But  still  the  con- 
stitution of  nature  is  as  it  is.  Our  happiness  and  misery  are  trusted 
to  our  conduct,  and  made  to  depend  upon  it.  Somewhat,  and  in 
many  circumstances  a  great  deal  too,  is  put  upon  us,  either  to  do  or 
to  suffer,  as  we  choose.  And  all  the  various  miseries  of  life  which 
people  bring  upon  themselves  by  negligence  and  folly,  and  might 
have  avoided  by  proper  care,  are  instances  of  this;  which  miseries 
are  beforehand  just  as  contingent  and  undetermined  as  their  conduct, 
and  left  to  be  determined  by  it. 

These  observations  are  an  answer  to  the  objections  against  the 
credibility  of  a  state  of  trial,  as  implying  temptations,  and  real  dan- 
ger of  miscarrying  with  regard  to  our  general  interest,  under  the 
moral  government  of  God;  and  they  shew  that,  if  we  are  at  all  to  be 
considered  in  such  a  capacity,  and  as  having  such  an  interest,  the 
general  analogy  of  Providence  must  lead  us  to  apprehend  ourselves 
in  danger  of  miscarrying,  in  different  degrees,  as  to  this  interest,  by 
our  neglecting  to  act  the  proper  part  belonging  to  us  in  that  capacity. 
For  we  have  a  present  interest,  under  the  government  of  God  which 
we  experience  here  upon  earth.  And  this  interest,  as  it  is  not  forced 
upon  us,  so  neither  is  it  offered  to  our  acceptance,  but  to  our  ac- 
quisition, in  such  sort  as  that  we  are  in  danger  of  missing  it,  by 
means  of  temptations  to  neglect,  or  act  contrary  to  it;  and  without 
attention  an<l  self  denial  must  and  do  miss  of  it.  It  is  then  perfectly 
credible  that  this  may  be  our  case,  with  respect  to  that  chief  and  final 
good  which  religion  proposes  to  us. 


Chap.  V.  Of  Moral  Discipline.  83 


CHAP.  V. 


Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  intended  for  Moral  Discipline  and 
Improvement. 

FROM  the  consideration  of  our  being  in  a  probation  state,  of  so 
much  difficulty  and  hazard,  naturally  arises  the  question,  how  we 
came  to  be  placed  in  it.  But  such  a  general  inquiry  as  this  would 
be  found  involved  in  insuperable  difficulties.  For  though  some  of 
these  difficulties  would  be  lessened,  by  observing  that  all  wickedness 
is  voluntary,  as  is  implied  in  its  very  notion,  and  that  many  of  the 
miseries  of  life  have  apparent  good  effects,  yet  when  we  consider 
other  circumstances  belonging  to  both,  and  what  must  be  the  conse- 
quence of  the  former  in  a  life  to  come,  it  cannot  but  be  acknowledged 
plain  folly  and  presumption  to  pretend  to  give  an  account  of  the 
whole  reasons  of  this  matter;  the  whole  reasons  of  our  being  alloted 
a  condition,  out  of  which  so  much  wickedness  and  misery,  so  circum- 
stanced, would  in  fact  arise.  Whether  it  be  not  beyond  our  faculties, 
not  only  to  find  out,  but  even  to  understand,  the  whole  account  of 
this;  or,  though  we  should  be  supposed  capable  of  understanding  it, 
yet,  whether  it  would  be  of  service  or  prejudice  to  us  to  be  informed 
of  it,  is  impossible  to  say.  But  as  our  present  condition  can  in  no 
wise  be  shewn  inconsistent  with  the  perfect  moral  government  of 
God,  so  religion  teaches  us  we  were  placed  in  it  that  we  might  qual- 
ify ourselves,  by  the  practice  of  virtue,  for  another  state  which  is  to 
follow  it.  And  this,  though  but  a  partial  answer,  a  very  partial  one 
indeed,  to  the  inquiry  now  mentioned,  yet  is  a  more  satisfactory 
answer  to  another,  which  is  of  real,  and  of  the  utraost  importance  to 
us  to  have  answere4— the  inquiry,  what  is  our  business  here?  The 
known  end,  then,  why  we  are  placed  in  a  state  of  so  much  affliction, 
hazard  and  difficulty,  is,  our  improvement  in  virtue  and  piety,  as  the 
requisite  qualification  for  a  future  state  of  security  and  happiness. 

Now  the  beginning  of  life,  considered  as  an  education  for  mature 
age  in  the  present  world,  appears  plainly,  at  first  sight,  analogous  to 
this  our  trial  for  a  future  one;  the  former  being  in  our  temporal  capa- 
city, what  the  latter  is  in  our  religious  capacity.  But  some  observa- 
tions common  to  both  of  them,  and  a  more  distinct  consideration  of 
each,  will  more  distinctly  shew  the  extent  and  force  of  the  analogy 
between  them,  and  the  credibility  which  arises  from  hence,  as  well  as 
from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  that  the  present  life  was  intended  to  be 
a  state  of  discipline  for  a  future  one. 

1.  Every  species  of  creatures  is,  we  see,  designed  for  a  particular 
way  of  life;  to  which  the  nature,  the  capacities,  temper,  and  qualifi- 
cations of  each  species,  are  as  necessary  as  their  external  circum- 
sjranccs.    Both  come  into  the  notion  of  such  state,  or  particular  way 


84  OJaSlaieoJ  Part  I. 

of  life,  and  arc  constituent  parts  of  it.  Cliange  a  inan's  capacities 
or  character,  to  the  degree  in  which  it  is  conceivable  they  may  be 
changed,  and  he  would  be  a!t<jkgether  incapable  of  a  human  course  of 
life,  and  human  happiness;  as  incapable  as  if,  his  nature  continuing 
unchanged,  he  were  placed  in  a  world  where  he  had  no  sphere  of  ac- 
tion, nor  any  objects  to  answer  ids  appetites,  passions,  and  afllections 
of  any  sort.  One  thing  is  set  over  against  anotlier,  as  an  ancient 
writer  expresses  it.  (Our  nature  corresponds  to  our  external  condi- 
tion; without  this  correspondence,  there  would  be  no  possibilifj  of 
any  such  thing  as  human  life  and  human  happiness;  which  life  and 
happiness  are,  therefore,  a  result  from  our  nature  and  condition-joint- 
ly; meaning  by  human  life,  not  living  in  the  literal  sense,  but  the 
whole  complex  notion  commonly  understood  by  those  words.  So 
that  without  determining  what  will  be  the  employment  and  happi- 
ness, the  particular  life  of  good  men  hereafter,  there  must  be  some 
determinate  capacities,  some  necessary  character  and  qualifications, 
without  which  persons  cannot  but  be  utterly  incapable  of  it:  in  like 
manner  as  there  must  be  some,  without  which  men  would  be  incapa- 
ble of  their  present  state  of  life.     Now, 

II,  The  constitution  of  human  creatures,  and  indeed  of  all  crea- 
tures which  come  under  our  notice,  is  such,  as  that  they  are  capable 
of  naturally  becoming  qualified  for  states  of  life,  for  which  they 
were  once  wholly  unqualified.  In  imagination  we  may  indeed  con- 
ceive of  creatures  as  incapable  of  having  any  of  their  faculties  nat- 
urally enlarged,  or  as  being  unable  naturally  to  acquire  any  new 
qualifications;  but  the  faculties  of  every  species  known  to  us  are 
made  for  enlargement,  for  acquirements  of  experience  and  habits. 
We  find  ourselves  in  particular  endued  with  c.-tpacities,  not  only  of 
perceiving  ideas,  and  of  knowledge  or  perceiving  truth,  but  also  of 
storing  up  our  ideas  and  knowledge  bv  memory.  We  are  capable, 
not  only  of  acting,  and  of  having  difti'rent  momentary  impressions 
piade  upon  us,  but  of  getting  a  new  facility  in  any  kind  of  action, 
and  of  settled  alterations  in  our  te!U]>er  or  thaiactcr.  The  power  of 
the  two  last  is  the  power  of  habits;  but  neither  the  perception  of 
idcas^  nor  knowledge  of  any  sort,  are  habits,  though  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  the  f{5rniing  of  them.  However,  apprehension,  reason, 
memory,  which  are  the  capacities  of  acquiring  knowledge,  are  great- 
ly improved  by  exercise.  Whether  the  word  habit  is  applicable  to 
all  these  ijTiprovenients,  and  in  particular  how  far  the  powers  of 
memory  and  of  habits  may  be  powers  of  the  same  nature,  1  shall  not 
inquire.  But  that  perceptions  come  into  our  minds  readily  and  of 
course,  by  means  of  theii-  having  been  there  before,  scorns  a  thing  of 
the  same  sort  as  readiness  in  any  particular  kind  of  action,  proceed- 
ing from  being  accustomed  to  it.  And  aptness  to  recollect  practical 
observations  of  service  in  our  conduct,  is  plainly  habit  in  many  cases. 
There  are  habits  of  perception,  and  habits  of  action.  An  instance 
of  the  former  is  otir  constant  and  even  involuntarily  readiness,  in  cor- 
recting the  impressions  of  our  sig'^t  concerning  magnitudes  and  dis- 
tances, so  as  to  substitute  ju<lgnient  in  the  ro'jm  of  sensation  imper- 
ceptibly to  ourselves.  And  it  seems  as  if  all  other  associations  of 
ideas  not  naturally  connected,  mijihtbe  called  passive  habits,  as  pro- 
perly us  our  r'^adincs.!*  in  '.;n'^er.>5tiin'4ing   languages   upon  sight,  or 


Chap.  V.  Moral  Disclplint.  85 

hearing  of  worils.  And  our  readiness  in  speaking  and  writing  them 
is  an  instance  of  the  latter,  of  active  habits.  For  distinctness,  we 
may  consider  habits  as  belonging  to  the  body  or  the  mind;  and  the 
latter  will  be  explained  by  the  former.  Under  the  former  are  com- 
prehended all  bodily  activities  or  motions,  whether  graceful  or  unbe- 
coming, which  are  owing  to  use;  under  the  latter,  general  habits 
of  life  and  conduct,  such  as  those  of  obedience  and  submission  to  au- 
thority, or  to  any  particular  person;  those  of  veracity,  justice  and 
charity;  those  of  attention,  industry,  self  government,  envy,  re- 
venge And  habits  of  this  latter  kind  seem  produced  by  repeated 
acts,  as  well  as  the  former.  And  in  like  manner  as  habits  belonging 
to  the  body  are  produced  by  external  acts,  so  habits  of  the  mind  are 
produced  by  the  exertion  of  inward  practical  principles,  i.  e.  by  car- 
rying them  into  act,  or  acting  upon  them;  the  principles  of  obedi- 
ence, of  veracity,  justice  and  charity.  Nor  can  those  habits  be  form- 
ed by  any  external  course  of  action,  otherwise  than  as  it  proceeds 
from  these  principles;  because  it  is  only  these  inwarxl  principles  ex- 
erted, which  are  strictly  acts  of  obedience,  of  veracity,  of  justice, 
and  of  charity.  So  likewise  habits  of  attention,  industry,  self  gov- 
ernment, are  in  the  same  manner  acquired  by  exercise;  and  habits 
of  envy  and  revenge  by  indulgence,  whether  in  outward  act,  or  in 
thought  and  intention,  i.  e.  inward  act;  for  such  intention  is  an  act. 
Resolutions  also  to  do  well  are  properly  acts.  And  endeavoring  to 
enforce  upon  our  own  minds  a  practical  sense  of  virtue,  or  to  beget 
in  others  that  practical  sense  of  it  which  a  man  really  has  himself, 
is  a  virtuous  act.  All  these,  therefore,  may  and  will  contribute  to- 
wards forming  good  habits.  But  going  over  the  theory  of  virtue  in 
one's  thoughts,  talking  well,  and  drawing  fine  pictures  of  it, — this  is 
so  far  from  necessarily  or  certainly  conducing  to  form  an  habit  of  itj 
in  him  who  thus  employs  himself,  that  it  may  harden  the  mind  in  a 
contrary  course,  and  render  it  gradually  more  insensible,  i.  e.  form 
an  haljit  of  insensibility  to  all  moral  considerations.  For,  from  our 
very  faculty  of  habits,  passive  impressions,  by  being  repeated,  grow 
weaker.  Thoughts,  by  often  passing  through  the  mind,  are  felt  less 
sensibly;  being  accustomed  to  danger  begets  intrepidity,  i.  e.  lessens 
fear;  to  distress,  lessons  the  passion  of  pity;  to  instances  of  other's 
mortality,  lessens  the  sensible  apprehension  of  our  own.  And  from 
these  tv^o  observations  together, — that  practical  habits  are  formed 
and  strengthened  by  repeated  acts,  and  that  passsive  impressions 
grow  v/eaker  by  being  repeated  upon  us, — it  must  follow,  that  ac- 
tive habits  may  begra(lually  forming  and  strengthening,  by  a  course 
of  acting  upon  such  and  such  motives  and  excitements,  whilst  these 
motives  and  excitements  themselves  are,  by  proportionable  degrees^ 
giowing  less  sensible,  i.  e.  arc  continually  less  and  less  sensibly  felt, 
even  as  the  active  habits  strengthen.  And  experience  confirms  thisj 
for  active  principles,  at  the  very  time  that  they  are  less  lively  in  per- 
ception than  they  were,  are  found  to  be,  some  how,  wrought  more 
thoroughly  into  the  temper  and  character,  and  become  more  effectual 
in  influencing  our  practice.  The  three  things  just  mentioned,  may 
afFowl  instances  of  it.  Perception  of  danger  is  a  natural  excitement 
of  passive  fear,  and  active  caution;  and  by  being  inured  to  danger, 
habits  of  the  latter  are  gradually  wrought,  at  the  same  time  that  the 


86  Of  a  State  of  Part  I. 

former  gradually  lessens.  Perceptions  of  distress  in  others  is  a  nat- 
ural excitement,  passively  to  pity,  and  actively  to  relieve  it;  but  let 
a  man  set  lumself  to  attend  to,  inquire  out,  and  relieve  distressed 
persons,  and  he  cannot  but  grow  less  and  less  sensibly  affected  with 
the  various  miseries  of  life  with  which  he  must  become  acquainted, 
when  yet  at  the  same  time  benevolence,  considered  not  as  a  passion, 
but  as  a  practical  principle  of  action,  will  strengthen;  and  whilst  he 
passively  compassionates  the  distressed  less,  he  will  acquire  a  great* 
er  aptitude  actively  to  assist  and  befriend  them.  So  also  at  the 
same  time  that  the  daily  instances  of  men's  dying  around  us  give  us 
daily  a  less  sensible  passive  feeling  or  apprehension  of  our  own  mor- 
tality, such  instances  greatly  contribute  to  the  strengthening  a  prac- 
tical regard  to  it  in  serious  incn,  H.  e.  to  forming  an  habit  of  acting 
with  a  cohstant  view  to  it.  And  this  seems  again  further  to  shew, 
that  passive  impressions  made  upon  our  minds  by  admonition,  ex- 
perience example,  though  they  may  have  a  remote  eflScacy,  and  a 
very  great  one,  towards  forming  active  habits,  yet  can  have  this  effi- 
cacy no  otherwise  than  by  inducing  us  to  such  a  course  of  action; 
and  that  it  is,  not  being  affected  so  and  so,  but  acting,  which  forms 
those  habits;  only  it  must  be  always  remembered,  that  real  endeav- 
ors to  enforce  good  impressions  upon  ourselves,  are  a  species  of  vir- 
tuous action.  Nor  do  we  know  how  far  it  is  possible,  in  tlie  nature 
of  tilings,  that  effects  should  be  wrought  in  us  at  once,  equivalent  to 
habits,  i.  e^  what  is  wrought  by  use  and  exercise.  However,  the 
thing  insisted  upon  is,  not  what  may, be  possible,  but  what  is  in  fact 
the  appointment  of  nature;  which  is,  that  active  habits  are  to  be 
formed  by  exercise.  Their  progress  may  be  so  gradual  as  to  be  im- 
perceptible in  its  steps;  it  may  be  hard  to  explain  the  faculty  by 
v.hich  we  are  capable  of  habits  throughout  its  several  parts,  and  to 
trace  it  up  to  its  original,  so  as  to  distinguish  it  from  all  others  in  our 
mind;  and  it  seems  as  if  contrary  effects  were  to  be  ascribed  to  it. 
But  the  thing  in  general,  that  our  nature  is  formed  to  yield,  in  some 
such  manner  as  this,  to  use  and  exercise,  is  matter  of  certain  expe- 
rience. 

Thus,  by  accustoming  ourselves  to  any  course  of  action,  we  get  an 
aptness  to  go  on,  a  facility,  readiness,  and  often  pleasure  in  it.  The 
inclinations  which  rendered  us  averse  to  it  grow  weaker;  the  diffi- 
culties in  it  not  only  the  imaginary  but  the  real  ones,  le-ssen;  the  rea- 
sons for  it  offer  themselves  of  course  to  onr  thoughts  upon  all  occa- 
sions, and  the  least  glimpse  of  them  is  sufficient  to  make  us  go  on  in 
a  course  of  action  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed.  And  practical 
principles  appear  to  grow  stronger  absolutely  in  themselves  by  exer- 
cise, as  well  as  relatively  with  regard  to  contrary  principles,  which, 
by  being  accustomed  to  submit,  do  so  habitually  and  of  course.  And 
tlius  a  new  character  in  several  respects  maybe  formed,  and  many 
habitudes  of  lile  not  given  by  natyre,  but  which  nature  directs  us  to 
acquire. 

ill.  Indeed  we  may  be  assured,  that  we  should  never  have  had 
these  capacities  of  improving  by  experience,  acquired  knowledge  and 
habits,  had  they  not  been  necessary,  and  intended  to  be  made  us^  of. 
And  accordingly  we  find  them  so  necessary,  and  so  much  intended, 
jlUt  without  them  we  ^hpuld  be  utterly  incapable  of  that  which  was 


Chap.  V.  Mofal  Discipline.  97 

the  end  for  which  we  were  made,  considered  in  our  temporal  capacity 
only,  the  employments  and  satisfactions  of  our  mature  state  of  life. 

Nature  does  in  no  wise  qualify  us  wholly,  much  less  at  onae,  for 
this  mature  state  of  life.  Even  muturity  of  understanding  and  bodily 
strength  are  not  only  arrived  to  gradually,  but  are  also  very  much 
owing  to  the  continued  exercise  ot  our  powers  of  body  and  mind, 
from  infancy.  But  if  we  suppose  a  person  brought  into  the  world 
with  both  these  in  maturity,  as  far  as  this  is  conceivable,  he  would 
plainly  at  first  be  as  unqualified  for  the  human  life  of  mature  age  as 
an  idiot.  He  would  be  in  a  manner  distracted  with  astonishment, 
and  apprehension,  and  curiosity,  and  supense;  nor  can  one  ^uess 
how  long  it  would  be  before  he  would  be  famiiiaiized  to  himself,  and 
the  objects  about  him,  enough  even  to  set  himself  to  any  thing.  It 
may  be  questioned  too,  whether  the  natural  information  of  his  sight 
and  hearing  would  be  of  any  inanner  of  use  at  all  to  him  in  acting, 
before  experience.  And  it  seems,  that  men  would  be  strangely 
headstrong  and  self  willed,  and  disposed  to  exert  themselves  with  an 
impetuosity  which  would  render  society  insupportable,  and  the  living 
in  it  impracticable,  were  it  not  for  some  acquired  moderation  and 
self  government,  some  aptitude  and  readiness  in  restraining  them- 
selves, and  concealing  their  sense  of  things.  Want  of  every  thing 
of  this  kind  which  is  learnt,  would  render  a  man  as  uncapable  of 
society  as  want  of  language  would,  or  as  his  natural  ignorance  of  any 
of  the  particular  employments  of  life  would  render  him  uncapable  of 
providing  himself  with  the  common  conveniences,  or  supplying  the 
necessary  wants  of  it.  In  these  respects,  and  probably  in  many 
more,  of  which  we  have  no  particular  notion,  mankind  is  left  by  na- 
ture an  unformed,  unfinished  creature,  utterly  deficient  and  unquali- 
fied, before  the  acquirement  of  knowledge,  experience  and  habits,  for 
that  mature  state  of  life  which  was  the  end  of  his  creation,  consider- 
ing him  as  related  only  to  this  world. 

But  then,  as  nature  has  endued  us  with  a  power  of  supplying  those 
deficiencies  by  acquired  knowledge,  experience  and  habits,  so  like- 
wise we  are  placed  in  a  condition,  in  infancy,  childhood  and  youth, 
fitted  for  it;  fitted  for  our  acquiring  those  qualifications  of  all  sorts, 
which  we  stand  in  need  of  in  mature  age.  Hence  children,  from 
their  very  birth,  are  daily  growing  acquainted  with  the  objects  about 
them,  with  the  scene  in  wriich  they  are  placed  and  to  have  a  future 
part,  and  learning  somewhat  or  other  necessary  to  the  performance 
of  it.  The  subordinations  to  which  they  are  accustomed  in  domestic 
life,  teach  them  self  government  in  common  behaviour  abroad,  and 
prepare  them  for  subjection  and  obedience  to  civil  authority.  What 
passes  before  their  eyes,  and  daily  happens  to  them,  gives  them  ex- 
perience, caution  against  treachery  and  deceit,  together  with  num- 
berless little  rules  of  action  and  conduct,  which  we  could  not  live 
without,  and  which  are  learnt  so  insensibly  and  so  perfectly  as  to  be 
mistaken  perhaps  for  instinct,  though  they  are  the  effect  of  long  ex- 
perience  and  exercise,  as  much  so  as  language,  or  knowledge  in  par- 
ticular business,  or  the  qualifications  and  behaviour  belonging  to  the 
several  ranks  and  professions.  Thus  the  beginning  of  our  days  is 
adapted  to  be,  and  is,  a  state  of  education  in  the  theory  and  practice 
of  mature  life.    We  are  much  assisted  in  it  by  example,  instruction, 


8S  Of  a  State  of  Part  I. 

and  the  care  of  others?  but  a  great  deal  is  left  to  oursolvps  to  do. 
And  of  this,  as  part  is  done  easily  and  of  course,  so  jiait  requires  dil- 
igence and  care,  the  voluntary  for^^goin^  mariy  things  which  we 
desire,  and  setting  ourselves  to  what  we  should  have  no  inclination 
to,  but  for  the  necessity  or  expedience  of  it.  For,  that  Uibor  and 
^industry  which  the  station  of  so  many  absolutely  requires,  they 
would  be  greatly  unqualified  for  in  maturity,  as  those  ia  other  sta- 
tions would  be  for  any  other  sorts  of  application,  if  both  were  not  ac- 
customed to  them  in  their  youth.  And  according  as  persons  behave 
themselves,  in  the  general  education  which  all  go  through,  and  ia 
the  particular  ones  adapted  to  particular  employments,  their  char- 
acter is  formed  and  made  appear;  they  recommend  themselves  more 
or  less,  and  are  capable  of  and  placed  in  different  stations  in  the 
society  of  mankind. 

The  former  part  of  life  then  is  to  be  considered  as  an  important 
opportunity  which  nature  puts  into  our  hands,  and  which,  when  lost, 
is  not  to  be  recovered.  And  our  being  placed  in  a  state  of  discipline 
throughout  this  life  for  another  world,  is  a  providential  disposition  of 
things,  exactly  of  the  same  kind  as  our  being  placed  in  a  state  of  dis- 
cipline during  childhood,  for  mature  age.  Our  condition  in  both  res- 
pects is  uniform  and  of  a  piece,  an<l  comprehended  under  one  and 
the  same  general  law  of  nature. 

And  if  we  were  not  able  at  all  to  discern  how  or  in  what  way  the 
present  life  could  be  our  preparation  for  another,  this  would  be  no 
objection  against  the  credibility  of  its  being  so.  For  we  do  not  dis- 
cern how  food  and  sleep  contribute  to  the  growth  of  the  body,  nor 
could  have  any  thought  that  they  would  before  we  had  experience. 
Nor  do  children  at  all  think,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  sports  and 
exercises  to  which  they  are  so  much  addicted  contribute  to  their 
health  and  growth;  nor  on  the  other,  of  the  necessity  which  there  is 
for  their  being  restrained  in  them;  nor  are  they  capable  of  under- 
standing the  use  of  many  parts  of  discipline,  which  nevertheless  they 
must  be  made  to  go  through,  in  order  to  qualify  them  for  the  business 
of  mature  age.  Were  we  not  able  then  to  discover,  in  what  respects 
the  present  life  could  form  us  for  a  future  one,  yet  nothing  would  be 
more  supposable  than  that  it  might,  in  some  respects  or  other,  from 
the  general  analogy  of  Providence.  And  this,  for  ought  I  see,  might 
reasonably  be  said,  even  though  we  should  not  take  in  the  considexa- 
tion  of  God's  moral  government  over  the  world.     But, 

IV,  Take  in  this  consideration,  and  consequently  that  the  char- 
acter of  virtue  and  piety  is  a  necessary  qualification  for  the  future 
state,  and  then  we  may  distinctly  see  how,  and  in  what  respects,  the 
present  life  may  be  a  preparation  for  it;  since  we  want^  and  are  capa- 
ble off  improvement  in  that  character,  ly  moral  and  religious  habits, 
andthe  present  life  is  Jit  to  be  a  state  of  discipline  for  such  improve' 
ment;  in  like  manner  as  we  have  already  observed  how,  and  in  what 
respects,  infancy,  childhood  and  youth  are  a  necessary  preparation, 
and  a  natural  state  of  discipline,  for  mature  age. 

Nothing  which  we  at  present  see  would  lead  us  to  the  thought  of  a 
solitary  unactive  state  hereafter;  but,  if  we  judge  at  all  from  the  anal- 
ogy of  nature,  we  must  suppose,  according  to  the  Scripture  account 
of  it,  that  it  will  be  a  communitv.     And  there  is  no  shadow  of  any 


Chap.  V.  Of  Moral  Discipline.  89 

thing  unreasonable  in  conceiving,  though  there  Le  no  analogy  for  it, 
that  this  community  will  be,  as  the  Scripture  represents  it,  under  the 
more  immediate,  or,  if  such  an  expression  may  be  used,  the  more 
sensible  government  of  God.  Nor  is  our  ignorance  what  will  be  the 
employments  of  this  happy  community,  nor  our  consequent  ignorance 
what  particular  scope  or  occupation  there  will  be  for  the  exercise  of 
veracity,  justice  and  charity  amongst  the  members  of  it  with  regard 
to  each  other,  any  proof  that  there  will  be  no  sphere  of  exercise  for 
those  virtues;  much  less,  if  that  were  possible,  is  our  ignorance  any- 
proof,  that  there  will  be  no  occasion  for  that  frame  of  mind,  or  char- 
acter, which  is  formed  by  the  daily  practice  of  those  particular  vir- 
tues here,  and  which  is  a  result  from  it.  This  at  least  must  be 
owned  in  general,  that,  as  the  government  established  in  the  universe 
is  moral,  the  character  of  virtue  and  piety  must,  in  some  way  or 
other,  be  the  condition  of  our  happiness,  or  the  qualification  for  it. 

Now  from  what  is  above  observed;  concerning  our  natural  power 
of  habits,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  we  are  capable  of  moral  improvement 
by  discipline.  And  how  greatly  we  want  it,  need  not  be  proved  to 
any  one  who  is  acquainted  with  the  great  wickedness  of  mankind,  or 
even  with  those  imperfections  which  the  best  are  conscious  of.  But 
it  is  not  perhaps  distinctly  attended  to  by  every  one,  that  the  occa- 
sion which  human  creatures  have  for  discipline,  to  improve  in  them 
this  character  of  virtue  and  piety,  is  to  be  traced  up  higher  than  to 
excess  in  the  passions,  by  indulgence  and  habits  of  vice.  Mankind, 
and  perhaps  all  finite  creatures,  from  the  very  constitution  of  their 
nature,  before  habits  of  virtue,  are,  deficient,  and  in  danger  of  deviat- 
ing from  what  is  right;  and  therefore  stand  in  need  of  virtuous  habits, 
for  a  security  against  this  danger.  For,  together  with  the  general 
principle  of  moral  understanding,  we  have  in  our  inward  frame  vari- 
ous aft'ections  towards  particular  external  objects.  These  affections 
are  naturally  and  of  right  subject  to  the  government  of  the  moral 
principle,  as  to  the  occasions  upwn  which  they  may  be  gratified,  as  to 
the  times,  degrees  and  manner  in  which  the  object  of  them  may  be 
pursued;  but  then  the  principle  of  virtue  can  neither  excite  them, 
nor  prevent  their  being  excited.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  naturally 
felt,  when  the  objects  of  them  are  present  to  the  mind,  not  only 
before  all  consideration  whether  they  can  be  obtained  by  lawful 
means,  but  after  it  is  found  they  cannot.  For  the  natural  objects  of 
affection  continue  so;  the  necessaries,  conveniences  and  pleasures  of 
life  remain  naturally  desirable,  though  they  cannot  be  obtained  inno- 
cently; nay,  though  they  cannot  possibly  be  obtained  at  all.  And 
when  the  objects  of  any  affection  whatever  cannot  be  obtained  with- 
out unlawful  means,  but  may  be  obtained  by  them,  such  affection, 
though  its  being  excited,  and  its  continuing  some  time  in  the  mind, 
be  it  as  innocent  as  it  is  natural  and  necessary,  yet  cannot  but  be 
conceived  to  have  a  tendency  to  incline  persons  to  venture  upoa 
such  unlawful  means,  and  therefore  must  be  conceived  as  putting 
them  in  some  danger  of  it.  Now  what  is  the  general  security  against 
this  danger,  against  their  actually  deviating  from  right?  As  the  dan- 
ger is,  so  also  must  the  ^curity  be  from  within;  from  the  practical 
M 


90  Of  a  State  of  Paut  f. 

principle  of  virtue*  And  the  strengthening  or  improving  this  prin- 
ciple, considered  as  practical,  or  as  a  principle  of  action,  will  lessen 
the  danger,  or  increase  the  security  against  it.  And  this  moral  prin- 
ciple is  capable  of  improvement  by  proper  discipline  and  exercise,  by 
recollecting  the  practical  impressions  which  example  and  experience 
have  made  upon  us,  and,  instead  of  following  humor,  and  mere  incli- 
nation, by  continually  attending  to  the  equity  and  right  of  the  case 
in  whatever  we  are  engaged,  be  it  in  greater  or  less  matters,  and 
accustoming  ourselves  always  to  act  upon  it,  as  being  itself  the  just 
and  natural  motive  of  action;  and  as  this  moral  course  of  behaviour 
must  necessarily,  under  divine  government  be  our  final  interest. 
Tfius  the  principle  of  virtue^  improved  into  an  habit,  of  which  im- 
provement we  are  thus  capable,  ivill  plainly  be,  in  proportion  to  the 
strength  of  it.  a  security  as;ainst  the  danger  which  finite  creatures 
are  in,  from  the  very  nature  of  propension,  or  particular  affections. 
This  way  of  putting  the  matter  supposes  particular  aftections  to  re- 
main in  a  future  state,  which  it  is  scarce  possible  to  avoid  supposing. 
And  if  they  do,  we  clearly  see  that  acquired  habits  of  virtue  and 
self  government  may  be  necessary  for  the  regulation  of  them.  How- 
ever, though  we  were  not  distinctly  to  take  in  this  supposition,  but 
to  speak  only  in  general,  the  thing  really  comes  to  the  same.  For 
habits  of  virtue,  thus  acquired  by  discipline,  are  improvement  in  vir- 
tue; and  improvement  in  virtue  must  be  advancement  in  happiness, 
if  the  government  of  the  universe  be  moral. 

From  these  things  we  may  observe,  and  it  will  farther  shew  this 
our  natural  and  original  need  of  being  improved  by  discipline,  how 
it  comes  to  pass,  that  creatures  made  upright  fall;  and  that  those  who 
preserve  their  uprightness,  by  so  doing  raise  themselves  to  a  more 
secure  state  of  virtue.  To  say  that  the  former  is  accounted  for  by 
the  nature  of  liberty,  is  to  say  no  more  than  that  an  event's  actually 
happening  is  accounted  for  by  a  mere  possibility  of  its  happening.  But 
it  seems  distinctly  conceivable  from  the  very  nature  of  particular 
affections  or  propensions.  For,  suppose  creatures  intened  for  such 
a  particular  state  of  life  for  which  such  propensions  were  necessary; 
suppose  them  endued  with  such  propensions,  together  with  moral 
understanding,  as  well  including  a  practical  sense  of  virtue  as  a 
speculative  perception  of  it,  and  that  ail  these  several  principles, 
both  natural  and  moral,  forming  an  inward  constitution  of  mind,  were 
in  the  most  exact  proportion  possible,  i.  e.  in  a  proportion  the  most 
exactly  adapted  to  their  intended  state  of  lite;  such  creatures  would 

*  ft  may  be  thought,  that  a  seuse  of  interest  would  as  effectnally  restrain  creatures 
from  tlniiig  -wrong.  But  if  by  a  sense  of  interest  is  meant  a  speculative  conviction  or 
belief,  that  such  and  such  indulgence  would  occasion  them  greater  uneasiness,  upon  the 
whole,  than  satisfaction,  it  is  contrary  to  present  experience  to  say,  that  this  sense  of 
interest  is  sufficient  to  restrain  diem  from  thus  indulging  theniselres  And  if  by  a  sense 
of  interest  is  meant  a  practical  regard  to  what  is,  upon  the  whole,  our  happiness,  this  is 
pot  only  coincident  with  the  principle  of  virtue  or  moral  rectitude,  but  is  a  part  of  the 
idea  itself.  And  it  is  evident  this  reasonable  ^elf  love  wants  to  be  impi'oved,  as  really 
as  any  principle  in  our  nature.  For  we  daily  see  it  overmatched,  not  only  by  the 
more  boisterous  passions,  but  by  curiosity,  shame,  love  of  imitation,  by  any  thing,  even 
indolence;  especially  if  the  interest,  the  temporal  interest,  suppose,  which  is  the  end  of 
such  self  love,  be  at  a  distance.  So  greatly  are  profligate  men  mistaken,  when  they 
affirm  tliey  are  wholly  governed  by  iiiteresledness  and  self  love.  And  so  little  cause  is 
tliere  for  moi-alists  to  disclaim  this  principle.    See  p.  7'J,  80. 


Chap.  V.  Moral  Discipline.  Gl 

be  made  upright,  or  finitely  perfect.  Now  particular  propensions, 
from  their  very  nature,  must  be  felt,  the  objects  of  them  being  pres- 
ent, though  they  cannot  be  gratified  at  all,  or  not  with  the  allowance 
of  the  moral  principle.  But  if  they  can  be  gratified  without  its  allow- 
ance, or  by  contradicting  it,  then  they  must  be  conceived  to  have 
some  tendency,  in  how  low  a  degree  soever,  yet  some  tendency,  to 
induce  persons  to  such  forbidden  gratification.  This  tendency,  in 
some  one  particular  propension,  may  be  increased  by  the  greater 
frequency  of  occasions  naturally  exciting  it,  than  of  occasions  excit- 
ing others.  The  least  voluntary  indulgence  in  forbidden  circum- 
stances, though  but  in  thought,  will  increase  this  wrong  tendency,  and 
may  increase  it  further,  until,  peculiar  conjunctures  perhaps  conspir- 
ing, it  becomes  effect;  and  danger  of  deviating  from  right,  ends  in 
actual  deviation  from  it;  a  danger  necessarily  arising  from  the  very 
nature  of  propension,  andirwhich  therefore  could  not  have  been  pre- 
vented, though  it  might  have  been  escaped,  or  got  innocently  through. 
The  case  would  be  as  if  we  were  to  suppose  a  strait  path  marked  out 
for  a  person,  in  which  such  a  degree  of  attention  would  keep  him 
steady;  but  if  he  would  not  attend  in  this  degree,  any  one  of  a  thou- 
sand objects  catching  his  eye  might  lead  him  out  of  it.  Now  it  is 
impossible  to  saj-  how  much,  even  the  first  full  overt  act  of  irregularity, 
might  disorder  the  inward  constitution,  unsettle  the  adjustments, 
and  alter  the  proportions  which  formed  it,  and  in  which  the  upright- 
ness of  its  make  consisted;  but  repetition  of  irregularities  would 
produce  habits:  and  thus  the  constitution  would  be  spoiled,  and  crea- 
tures made  upright  become  corrupt  and  depraved  in  their  settled 
character,  proportionably  to  their  repeated  irregularities  in  occasional 
acts.  But  on  the  contrary,  these  creatures  might  have  improved, 
and  raised  themselves  to  an  higher  and  more  secure  state  of  virtue, 
by  the  contrary  behaviour;  by  steadily  following  the  moral  principle, 
supposed  to  be  one  part  of  their  nature,  and  thus  withstanding  that 
unavoidable  danger  of  defection,  which  necessarily  arose  from  pro- 
pension,  the  other  part  of  it.  For,  by  thus  preserving  their  integrity 
for  some  time,  their  danger  would  lessen,  since  propensions  by  being 
inured  to  submit,  would  do  it  more  easily  and  of  course;  and  their 
security  against  this  lessening  danger  would  increase,  since  the  moral 
principle  would  gain  additional  strength  by  exercise;  both  which 
thiegs  are  implied  in  the  notion  of  virtuous  habits.  Thus  then,  vicious 
indulgence  is  not  only  criminal  in  itself,  but  also  depraves  the  inward 
constitution  and  character.  And  virtuous  self  government  is  not 
only  right  in  itself,  but  also  improves  the  inward  constitution  or  char- 
acter; and  may  improve  it  to  such  a  degree,  that  though  we  should 
suppose  it  impossible  for  particular  affections  to  be  absolutely  coinci- 
dent with  the  moral  principle,  and  consequently  should  allow,  that 
such  creatures  as  have  been  above  supposed  would  for  ever  remain 
defectible,  yet  their  danger  of  actually  deviating  from  right  may  be 
almost  infinitely  lessened,  and  they  fully  fortified  against  what  re- 
mains of  it,  if  that  may  be  called  danger  against  which  there  is  an 
adequate  effectual  security.  But  still  this  their  higher  perfection  may 
continue  to  consist  in  habits  of  virtue,  formed  in  a  state  of  discipline, 
and  this  their  more  complete  security  remain  to  proceed  from  them. 
And  thus  it  is  plainly  conceivable,  that  creatures  without  blemish,  as 


92  0/  a  State  of  Part  L 

they  came  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  may  be  in  danger  of  going  wrong, 
and  so  may  stand  in  need  of  the  security  of  virtuous  habits,  addi- 
tional to  the  moral  principle  wrought  into  their  natures  by  him. 
That  which  is  the  ground  of  their  danger,  or  their  want  of  security, 
may  be  considered  as  a  deficiency  in  them,  to  which  virtuous  habits 
are  the  natural  supply.  And  as  they  are  naturally  capable  of  being 
raised  and  improved  by  discipline,  it  may  be  a  thing  fit  and  requisite 
that  they  siiould  be  placed  in  circumstances  with  an  eye  to  it;  in  cir- 
cumstances peculiarly  fitted  to  be  to  them  a  stale  of  discipline  for 
their  improvement  in  virtue. 

But  how  much  more  srongly  must  this  hold  with  respect  to  those 
who  have  corrupted  their  natures,  are  fallen  from  their  original  recti- 
tude, and  whose  passions  are  become  excessive  by  repeated  violations 
of  their  inward  constitution?  Upright  creatures  may  want  to  be  im- 
proved; depraved  creatures  want  to  be*renewed.  Education  atid 
discipline,  wtiich  may  be  in  all  degrees  and  sorts  of  gentleness  and 
of  severity,  is  expedient  for  those,  but  must  be  absolutely  necessary 
for  these.  For  these,  discipline  of  the  severer  sort  too,  and  in  the 
higher  degrees  of  it,  must  be  necessary,  in  order  to  wear  out  vicious 
habits;  to  recover  their  primitive  strength  of  self  government,  which 
indulgence  must  have  weakened;  to  repair,  as  well  as  raise  into  an 
habit,  the  moral  principle,  in  order  to  their  arriving  at  a  secure  state 
of  virtuous  happiness. 

Now  whoever  will  consider  the  thing,  may  clearly  see,  that  the 
present  world  is  pexuliarli/  fit  to  be  a  state  of  discipline  for  this  pur- 
pose, to  such  as  will  set  themselves  to  mend  and  improve.  For,  the 
various  temptations  with  which  we  are  surrounded;  our  experience 
of  the  deceits  of  wickedness;  having  been  in  many  instances  led 
wrong  ourselves;  the  great  viciousness  of  the  world:  the  infinite  dis- 
orders consequent  upon  it;  eur  being  made  acquainted  with  pain  and 
sorrow,  either  from  our  own  feeling  of  it,  or  from  the  sight  of  it  in 
others;  these  things,  though  some  of  them  may  indeed  produce  wrong 
effects  upon  our  minds,  yet  when  duly  reilected  upon,  have,  all  of 
them,  a  direct  tendency  to  bring  us  to  a  settled  moderation  and  rea- 
sonableness of  temper,  the  contrary  both  to  thoughtless  levity,  and 
also  to  that  unrestrained  self  will,  and  violent  bent  to  follow  present 
inclination,  which  may  be  observed  in  undisciplined  minds.  Such 
experience  as  the  present  state  affords,  of  the  frailty  of  our  nature; 
of  the  boundless  extravagance  of  ungoverned  passion;  of  the  power 
•which  an  infinite  Being  has  over  us,  by  the  various  capacities  of  mis- 
cry  which  he  has  given  us;  in  short,  that  kind  and  degree  of  experi- 
ence which  the  present  state  affords  us,  th^t  the  constitution  of  na- 
ture is  such  as  to  admit  the  possibility,  the  danger,  and  the  actual 
event  of  creatures  losing  their  innocence  and  happiness,  and  becom- 
ing vicious  and  wretched,  hath  a  tendency  to  give  us  a  practical  sense 
of  things  very  different  from  a  mere  speculative  knowledge,  that  we 
are  liable  to  vice,  and  capable  of  miesry.  And  who  knows,  whether 
the  security  of  cieatures  in  the  highest  and  most  settled  state  of  per- 
fection may  not  in  part  arise  from  their  having  had  such  a  sense  of 
things  as  thisj  formed  and  habitually  fixed  within  them,  in  some  state 
flf  probation.  And  passing  through  the  present  world  with  that  moral 
attention  which  is  necessary  to  the  acting  a  right  part  in  it,  may  leave 


Chap.  V,  Moral  JDiscipline.  9S 

everlasting  impressions  of  this  sort  upon  our  minds.  But  to  be  a  little 
more  distinct — allurements  to  what  is  wrong;  difficulties  in  the  dis- 
charge of  our  duty;  our  not  being  able  to  act  an  uniform  right  part 
without  some  thought  and  care;  and  the  opportunities  which  we  have, 
or  imagine  we  have,  of  avoiding  what  we  dislike,  or  obtaining  what 
we  desire,  by  unlawful  means,  when  we  either  cannot  do  it  at  all,  or 
at  least  not  so  easily,  by  lawful  ones;  these  things,  i.  e.  the  snares 
and  temptations  of  vice,  are  what  render  the  present  world  peculiarly 
fit  to  be  a  state  of  discipline  to  those  who  will  preserve  their  integ- 
rity, because  they  render  being  upon  our  guard,  resolution,  and  the 
denial  of  our  passions  necessary  in  order  to  that  end.  And  the  exer- 
cise of  such  particular  recollection,  intention  of  mind,  and  self  gov- 
ernment in  tne  practice  of  virtue  has,  from  tli«  make  of  our  nature, 
a  peculiar  tendency  to  form  habits  of  virtue,  as  implying  eot  only  a 
real  but  also  a  more  continued  and  a  more  intense  exercise  of  the  vir- 
tuous principle,  or  a  more  constant  and  a  stronger  eftbrt  of  virtue 
exerted  into  act.  Thus  suppose  a  person  to  know  himself  to  be  in 
particular  danger  for  some  time  of  doing  any  thing  wrong,  which  yet 
he  fully  resolves  not  to  do;  continued  recollection,  and  keeping  upon 
his  guard,  in  order  to  make  good  his  resolution,  is  a  continued  exert- 
ing of  that  act  of  virtue  in  a  high  degree,  which  need  have  been,  and 
perhaps  would  have  been,  only  instantaneous  and  weak,  had  the 
temptation  been  so.  It  is  indeed  ridiculous  to  assert,  that  self  denial 
is  essential  to  virtue  and  piety;  but  it  would  have  been  nearer  the 
truth,  though  not  strictly  the  truth  itself,  to  have  said,  that  it  is  essen- 
tial to  discipline  and  improvement.  For  though  actions  materially 
virtuous,  which  have  no  sort  of  difficulty,  but  are  perfectly  agreeabl« 
to  our  particular  inclinations,  may  possibly  be  done  only  from  these 
particular  inclinations,  and  so  may  not  be  any  exercise  of  the  princi- 
ple of  virtue,  i.  e.  not  be  virtuous  actions  at  all;  yet  on  the  contrary, 
they  may  be  an  exercise  of  that  principle;  and  when  they  are,  they 
have  a  tendency  to  form  and  fix  the  habit  of  virtue.  But  when  the 
exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle  is  more  continued,  oftener  repeated, 
and  more  intense,  as  it  must  be  in  circumstances  of  danger,  tempta- 
tion, and  difficulty  of  any  kind  and  in  any  degree,  this  tendency  is 
increased  proportionably,  and  a  more  confirmed  habit  is  the  conse- 
quence. 

This  undoubtedly  holds  to  a  certain  length;  but  how  far  it  may  hold 
I  know  not.  Neither  our  intellectual  powers,  nor  our  bodily  strength? 
can  be  improved  beyond  such  a  degree;  and  both  may  be  overwrought. 
Possibly  there  may  be  somewhat  analogous  to  this,  with  respect  to  the 
moral  character,  which  is  scarce  worth  considering.  And  X  mention 
it  only,  lest  it  should  come  into  some  persons'  thoughts,  not  as  an 
exception  to  the  foregoing  observations,  which  perhaps  it  is,  but  as  a 
confutation  of  them,  which  it  is  not.  And  there  may  be  several  other 
exceptions.  Observations  of  this  kind  cannot  be  supposed  to  hold 
minutely  and  in  every  case.  It  is  enoHgh  that  they  hold  in  general. 
And  these  plainly  hold  so  far,  as  that  from  them  may  be  seen  dis- 
tinctly, which  is  all  that  is  intended  by  them,  that  the  present  world 
is  peculiarly  jit  to  be  a  state  of  discipline,  for  our  improvement  in 
virtue  and  piety,  in  the  same  sense  as  some  sciences,  by  requiring 
and  engaging  the  attention,  not  to  be  sure  of  such  persons  as  will  not- 


S4  Of  a  State  of  Part  L 

but  of  such  as  will,  set  themselves  to  them,  are  fit  to  form  the  mind 
to  habits  of  attention. 

Indeed  the  present  state  is  so  far  from  proving,  in  event,  a  disci- 
pline of  virtue  to  the  generality  of  men,  that,  on  the  contrary,  they 
seem  to  make  it  a  discipline  of  vice.  And  the  viciousness  of  the  world 
is,  in  different  ways,  the  great  temptation  which  renders  it  a  state  of 
virtuous  discipline,  in  the  degree  it  is,  to  good  men.  The  whole  end 
and  the  whole  occasion  of  mankind's  being  placed  in  such  a  state  as 
the  present,  is  not  pretended  to  be  accounted  for.  That  which  appears 
amidst  the  general  corruption,  is,  that  there  are  some  persons,  who, 
having  within  them  the  principle  of  amendment  and  recovery,  attend 
to  and  follow  the  notices  of  virtue  and  religion,  be  they  more  clear  or 
more  obscure,  which  are  afforded  them:  and  that  the  present  world  is, 
not  only  an  exercise  of  virtue  in  these  persons,  but  an  exercise  of  it 
in  ways  and  degrees  peculiarly  apt  to  improve  it;  apt  to  improve  it, 
in  some  respects,  even  beyond  what  would  be  by  the  exercise  of  it 
requii-ed  in  a  perfectly  virtuous  society,  or  in  a  society  of  equally 
imperfect  virtue  with  themselves.  But  that  the  present  world  does  not 
actually  become  a  state  of  moral  discipline  to  many,  even  to  the  gene- 
rality, i.  e.  that  they  do  not  improve  or  grow  better  in  it,  cannot  be 
urged  as  a  proof  that  it  was  not  intended  for  moral  discipline,  by 
any  who  at  all  observe  the  analogy  of  nature  For,  of  the  numerous 
seeds  of  vegetables  and  bodies  of  animals,  which  are  adapted  and  put 
in  the  way  to  improve  to  such  a  point  or  state  of  natural  maturity  and 
perfection,  we  do  not  see  perhaps  that  one  in  a  million  actually  does. 
Far  the  greatest  part  of  them  decay  before  they  are  improved  to  it, 
and  appear  to  be  absolutely  destroyed.  Yet  no  one,  who  does  not 
deny  all  final  causes,  will  deny  that  those  seeds  and  bodies  which  do 
attain  to  that  point  of  maturity  and  perfection,  answer  the  end  for 
which  they  were  really  designed  by  nature,  and  therefore  that  nature 
designed  them  for  such  perfection.  And  I  cannot  forbear  adding, 
though  it  is  not  to  the  present  purpose,  that  the  ap'pearance  of  such  an 
amazing  waste  in  nature,  with  respect  to  these  seeds  and  bodies,  by 
foreign  causes,  is  to  us  as  unaccountable,  as,  what  is  much  more  ter- 
rible, the  present  and  future  ruin  of  so  many  moral  agents  by  them- 
selves, i.  e.  by  vice. 

Against  this  whole  notion  of  moral  discipline  it  may  be  objected 
in  another  way,  that  so  far  as  a  course  of  behaviour,  materially  vir- 
tuous, proceeds  from  hope  and  fear,  so  far  it  is  only  a  discipline  and 
strengthening  of  self  love.  But  doing  what  God  commands,  because 
be  commands  it.  is  obedience,  though  it  proceeds  from  hope  or  fear. 
And  a  course  of  such  obedience  will  form  habits  of  it.  And  a  con- 
stant regard  to  veracity,  justice  and  charity  may  form  distinct  habits 
of  these  particular  virtues,  and  will  certainly  form  habits  of  self  gov- 
ernment, and  of  denying  our  inclinations,  whenever  veracity,justice 
or  charity  requires  it.  Nor  is  there  any  foundation  for  this  great 
nicety,  with  which  so'.ne  affect  to  distinguish  in  this  case,  in  order  to 
depreciate  all  religion  proceeding  from  hope  or  fear.  For,  veracity, 
justice  and  charity,  regard  to  God's  authority,  and  to  our  own  chief 
interest,  are  not  only  all  three  coincident,  but  each  of  them  is,  in 
itself,  a  just  and  natural  motive  or  principle  of  action.  And  he  who 
fcegins  a  good  life  from  any  one  of  them,  and  perseveres  in  it,  as  he 


Chap.  V.  Jiloral  Discipline.  95 

is  already  in  some  degree,  so  he  cannot  fail  of  becoming  more  and 
more  of  that  character,  which  is  correspondent  to  the  constitution  of 
nature  as  moral,  and  to  the  relation  which  God  stands  in  to  us  as 
moral  <;overnor  of  it;  nor  consequently  can  he  fail  of  obtaining  that 
happiness  which  this  constitution  and  relation  necessarily  suppose 
connected  with  that  character. 

These  several  observations  concerning  the  active  principle  of  vir- 
tue and  obedience  to  God's  commands  are  applicable  to  passive  sub- 
mission or  resignation  to  his  will,  which  is  another  essential  part  of  a 
right  character,  connected  with  the  former,  and  very  much  in  our 
power  to  form  ourselves  to.  It  may  be  imagined,  that  nothing  but 
afflictions  can  give  occasion  for  or  require  this  virtue;  that  it  can 
have  no  respect  to,  nor  be  any  way  necessary  to  quality  for,  a  state 
of  perfect  happiness;  but  it  is  not  experience  which  can  make  us 
think  thus.  Prosperity  itself,  whilst  any  thing  supposed  desirable 
is  not  ours,  begets  extravagant  and  unbounded  thoughts.  Imagination 
is  altogether  as  much  a  source  of  discontent  as  any  thing  in  our  ex- 
ternal condition.  It  is  indeed  true,  that  there  can  be  no  scope  for 
patience,  when  sorrow  shall  be  no  more;  but  there  may  be  need  of  a 
temper  of  mind  which  shall  have  been  formed  by  patience.  For 
though  self  love,  considered  merely  as  an  active  principle  leading  us 
to  pursue  our  chief  interest,  cannot  but  be  uniformly  coincident  with 
the  principle  of  obedience  to  God's  commands,  our  interest  being 
rightly  understcod;  because  this  obedience,  and  the  pursuit  of  ou- 
own  chief  interest,  must  be  in  every  case  one  and  the  same  thing: 
yet  it  may  be  questioned,  whether  self  love,  considered  merely  as  the 
desire  of  our  own  interest  or  happiness,  can,  from  its  nature,  be  thus 
absolutely  and  uniformly  coincident  with  the  will  of  God,  any  more 
than  particular  affections  can;  coincident  in  such  sort,  as  not  to  be 
liable  to  be  excited  upon  occasions  and  in  degreeis,  impossible  to  be 
gratified  consiste^itly  with  the  constitution  of  things,  or  the  divine 
appointments.  So  that  habits  of  resignation  may,  upon  this  account, 
be  requisite  for  all  creatures;  habits,  I  say,  which  signify  what  is 
formed  by  use.  However,  in  general  it  is  obvious,  that  both  self  love 
and  particular  affections  in  human  creatures,  considered  only  as  pas- 
sive feelings,  distort  and  rend  the  mind,  and  therefore  stand  in  need 
of  discipline-  Now  denial  of  those  particular  affections,  in  a  course 
of  active  virtue  and  obedience  to  God's  will,  has  a  tendency  to  mod- 
erate them,  and  seems  also  to  have  a  tendency  to  hjabituate  the  mind 
to  be  easy  and  satisfied  with  that  degree  of  happiness  which  is  alloted 
us,  i.  e.  to  moderate  self  love.  But  the  proper  discipline  for  resigna- 
tion is  affliction.  For  a  right  behaviour  under  that  trial;  recollecting 
ourselves  so  as  to  consider  it  in  the  view  in  which  religion  teaches 
us  to  consider  it,  as  from  the  hand  of  God;  receiving  it  as  what  he 
appoints,  or  thinks  proper  to  permit,  in  his  world  and  under  his  gov- 
ernment: this  will  habituate  the  mind  to  a  dutiful  submission.  And 
such  submission,  together  with  the  active  principle  of  obedience, 
make  up  the  temper  and  character  in  us  which  answers  to  his  sove- 
reignty, and  which  absolutely  belongs  to  the  condition  of  our  being, 
as  dependent  creatures.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  this  is  only  breaking 
the  mind  to  a  submission  to  mere  power,  for  more  power  may  be  acci- 
dental, and  precarious,  and  usurped;  but  it  is  forming  within  our 


96  Of  a  State  of,  S^c.  Part  L 

selves  the  temper  of  resignation  to  his  rightful  authority,  who  is,  by 
nature,  supreme  over  all. 

Upon  the  whole,  such  a  character,  and  such  qualifications,  are 
necessary  for  a  mature  state  of  life  in  the  present  world,  as  nature 
alone  does  in  no  wise  bestow,  but  has  put  it  upon  us  in  great  part  to 
acquire,  in  our  progress  from  one  stage  of  life  to  another,  from  child- 
hood to  mature  age;  put  it  upon  us  to  acquire  them,  by  giving  us  ca- 
pacities of  doing  it,  and  by  placing  us,  in  the  beginning  of  life,  in  a 
condition  fit  for  it.  And  this  is  a  general  analogy  to  our  condition 
in  the  present  world,  as  in  a  state  of  moral  discipline  for  another. 
It  is  in  vain  then  to  object  against  the  credibility  of  the  present  life's 
being  intended  for  this  purpose,  that  all  the  trouble  and  the  danger 
unavoidably  accompanying  such  discipline  might  have  been  saved  us, 
by  our  being  made  at  once  the  creatures  and  characters  which  we 
were  to  be.  For  we  experience,  that  ivhat  we  ivere  to  be  was  to  be  the 
effect  of  what  we  would  do;  and  that  the  general  conduct  of  nature 
is,  not  to  save  us  trouble  or  danger,  but  to  make  us  capable  of  going 
through  them,  and  to  put  it  upon  us  to  do  so.  Acquirements  of  our 
own,  experience  and  habits,  are  the  natural  supply  to  our  deficien- 
cies, and  security  against  our  dangers,  since  it  is  as  plainly  natural 
to  set  ourselves  to  acquire  the  qualifications,  as  the  external  things, 
which  we  stand  in  need  of.  In  particular,  it  is  as  plainly  a  general 
law  of  nature  that  we  should,  with  regard  to  our  temporal  interest, 
form  and  cultivate  practical  principles  within  us,  by  attention,  use 
and  discipline,  as  any  thing  whatever  is  a  natural  law;  chiefly  in  the 
beginning  of  life,  but  also  throughout  the  whole  course  ©f  it.  And 
the  alternative  is  left  to  our  choice,  either  to  improve  ourselves,  and 
better  our  condition,  or,  in  default  of  such  improvement,  to  remain 
deficient  and  wretched.  It  is  therefore  perfectly  credible,  from  the 
analogy  of  nature,  that  the  same  may  be  our  case,  with  respect  to  the 
happiness  of  a  future  state,  and  the  qualifications  necessary  for  it. 

There  is  a  third  thing,  which  may  seem  implied  in  the  present 
world's  being  a  state  of  probation;  that  it  is  a  theatre  of  action  for 
the  manifestation  of  persons'  characters,  with  respect  to  a  future 
one;  not  to  be  sure  to  an  all  knowing  Being,  but  to  his  creation  or 
part  of  it.  This  may,  perhaps,  be  only  a  consequence  of  our  being 
in  a  state  of  probation  in  the  other  senses.  However,  it  is  not  im- 
possible that  men's  shewing  and  making  manifest  what  is  in  their 
heart,  what  their  real  character  is,  may  have  respect  to  a  future  life, 
in  ways  and  manners  which  we  are  not  acquainted  with;  particularly 
it  may  be  a  means,  for  the  Author  of  nature  does  not  appear  to  do 
any  thing  without  means,  of  their  being  disposed  of  suitably  to  their 
characters;  and  of  its  being  known  to  the  creation,  by  way  of  exam- 
ple, that  they  are  thus  disposed  of.  But  not  to  enter  upon  any  con- 
jectural account  of  this,  one  may  just  mention,  that  the  manifestation 
of  persons'  characters  contributes  very  much,  in  various  ways,  to  the 
carrying  on  a  part  of  that  general  course  of  nature,  respecting  man- 
kind, which  comes  under  our  observation  at  present.  1  shall  only  add, 
that  probation,  in  both  these  senses,  as  well  as  in  that  treated  ot  in 
the  foregoing  chapter,  is  implied  in  moral  government,  since  by  per- 
sons' behaviour  under  it  their  characters  cannot  but  be  manifested, 
and,  if  they  behave  well,  improved. 


Chap.  VI.  Of  the  Opinion  of  A''ecessit]f.  97 


CHAP.  VL 


Of  the  Opinion  of  JVecessity,  considered  as  influencing  Practice. 

THROUGHOUT  t'.e  foregoing  treatise  it  appears,  that  the  condi- 
tion of  mankind,  considered  as  inhabitants  of  this  world  only,  and 
under  the  government  of  God  which  we  experience,  is  greatly  anal- 
ogous to  our  condition  as  designed  for  another  world,  or  under  that 
farther  government  which  religion  teaches  us.  If  therefore  any  as- 
sert, as  a  fatalist  must,  that  the  opinion  of  universal  necessity  is  re- 
concileable  with  the  former,  there  immediately  arises  a  question  in 
the  way  of  analogy,  whether  he  must  not  also  own  it  to  be  reconcile- 
able  with  the  latter,  i.  e.  with  the  system  of  religion  itself,  and  the 
proof  of  it.  The  reader  then  will  observe,  that  the  question  now 
before  us  is  not  absolute,  whether  the  opinion  of  fate  be  reconcilea- 
ble  with  religion;  but  hypothetical,  whether,  upon  supposition  of  its 
being  reconcileable  with  the  constitution  of  nature,  it  be  not  recon- 
cileable  with  religion  also;  or,  what  pretence  a  fatalist,  not  other  per- 
sons, but  a  fatalist,  has  to  conclude  from  his  opinion  that  there  can 
be  no  such  thing  as  religion.  And  as  the  puzzle  and  obscurity  which 
must  unavoidably  arise  from  arguing  upon  so  absurd  a  supposition  as 
that  of  universal  necessity  will,  I  fear,  easily  be  seen,  it  will,  I  hope, 
as  easily  be  excused. 

But  since  it  has  been  all  along  taken  for  granted,  as  a  thing  pro- 
ved, that  there  is  an  intelligent  author  of  nature,  or  natural  governor 
of  the  world;  and  since  an  objection  may  be  made  against  the  proof  of 
this  from  the  opinion  of  universal  necessity,  as  it  may  be  supposed  that 
such  necessity  will  itself  account  for  the  origin  and  preservation  of 
all  things,  it  is  requisite  that  this  objection  be  distinctly  answered,  or 
that  it  be  shewn  that  a  fatality,  supposed  consistent  with  what  we 
certainly  experience,  does  not  destroy  the  proof  of  an  intelligent 
author  and  governor  of  nature,  before  we  proceed  to  consider  wheth- 
er it  destroys  the  proof  of  a  moral  governor  of  it,  or  of  our  being  in 
a  state  of  religion. 

Now,  when  it  is  said  by  a  fatalist,  that  the  whole  constitution  of 
nature,  and  the  actions  of  men,  that  every  thing,  and  every  mode 
and  circumstance  of  every  thing,  is  necessary,  and  could  not  possi- 
bly have  been  otherwise,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  this  necessity  does 
not  exclude  deliberation,  choice,  preference,  and  acting  from  certain 
principles,  and  to  certain  ends;  because  all  this  is  matter  of  un- 
doubted experience,  acknowledged  by  all,  and  what  every  man  may, 
every  moment,  be  conscious  of.  And  from  hence  it  follows,  that  ne- 
cessity, alone  and  of  itself,  is  in  no  sort  an  account  of  the  constitution 
of  nature,  and  how  things  came  to  be  and  to  continue  as  they  are;  but 
only  an  account  of  this  ciVcjojJsfcrnce  relating  to  their  origin  and  con- 
N 


98  Of  the  Opinion  of  JV*ecessity,  Part  I. 

tinuance,  that  tliey  could  not  have  been  otherwise  than  they  are  and 
have  been.  The  assertion  that  every  thing  is  by  necessity  of  na- 
ture, is  not  an  answer  to  the  question,  whether  the  world  came  into 
being  as  it  is,  by  an  intelligent  agent  forming  it  thus,  or  not;  but  to 
quite  another  question,  whether  it  came  into  being  as  it  is,  in  that 
way  and  manner  which  we  call  necessarily,  or  in  that  way  and  man- 
ner which  we  call  freely.  For  suppose  farther,  that  one  who  was  a 
fatalist,  and  one  who  kept  to  his  natural  sense  of  things,  and  believed 
himself  a  free  agent,  were  disputing  together,  and  vindicating  their 
respective  opinions,  and  they  should  happen  to  instance  in  a  house — 
they  would  agree  that  it  was  built  by  an  architect.  Their  difference 
concerning  necessity  and  freedom  would  occasion  no  difference  of 
judgment  concerning  this,  but  only  concerning  another  matter, 
whether  the  architect  built  it  necessarily  or  freely.  Suppose  then 
they  should  proceed  to  inquire  concerning  the  constitution  of  na- 
ture; in  a  lax  way  of  speaking,  one  of  them  might  say  it  was  by  ne- 
cessity, and  the  other  by  freedom;  but  if  they  had  any  meaning  to 
their  words,  as  the  latter  must  mean  a  free  agent,  so  the  former  must 
at  length  be  reduced  to  mean  an  agent,  whether  he  would  say  one  or 
more,  acting  by  necessity;  for  abstract  notions  can  do  nothing.  In- 
deed wc  ascribe  to  God  a  necessary  existence,  uncaused  by  any 
agent.  For  we  find  witiiin  ourselves  the  idea-  of  infinity,  i.  e.  im- 
mensity and  eternity,  impossible,  even  in  imagination,  to  be  remov- 
ed out  of  being.  We  seem  to  discern  intuitively  that  there  must 
and  cannot  but  be  somewhat,  external  to  ourselves,  answering  this 
idea,  or  the  archetype  of  it.  And  from  hence  (for  this  abstract,  as 
much  as  any  other,  implies  a  concrete)  we  conclude  that  there  is,  and 
cannot  but  be,  an  infinite  and  immense  eternal  Being,  existing  prior 
to  all  design  contributing  to  his  existence  and  exclusive  of  it.  And 
from  the  scantiness  of  language,  a  manner  of  speaking  has  been  in- 
troduced, that  necessity  is  the  foundation,  the  reason,  tne  account  of 
the  existence  of  God.  But  it  is  not  alleged,  nor  can  it  be  at  all  in- 
tended, that  every  thirig  exists  as  it  does,  by  this  kind  of  necessity, 
a  necessity  antecedent  in  nature  to  design:  it  cannot,  I  say,  be  meant 
that  every  thing  exists  as  it  does,  by  this  kind  of  necessity,  upon 
several  accounts;  and  particularly  because  it  is  admitted,  that  de- 
sign, in  the  actions  of  men,  contributes  to  many  alterations  in  nature. 
For  if  any  deny  this,  I  shall  not  pretend  to  reason  with  them. 

From  these  things  it  follows,  first,  that  when  a  fatalist  asserts  that 
every  thing  is  hy  necessity,  he  must  mean  by  an  agent  acting  necessari- 
ly; he  must,  i  say,  mean  this,  for  I  am  very  sensible  he  would  not 
choose  to  mean  it:  and,  secondly,  that  the  necessity  by  which  such 
an  agent  is  supposed  to  act  does  not  exclude  intelligence  and  design. 
So  that  were  the  system  of  fatality  admitted,  it  would  just  as  much 
account  for  the  formation  of  the  world  as  for  the  structure  of  an 
house,  and  no  more.  Necessity  as  much  requires  and  supposes  a  ne- 
cessary agent,  as  freedom  requires  and  supposes  a  free  agent,  to  be 
the  former  of  the  world.  And  the  appearances  of  design  and  of 
final  causes  in  the  constitution  of  nature  as  really  prove  this  acting 
agent  to  be  an  intelligent  designer,  or  to  act  from  choice,  upon  the 
scheme  of  necessity,  supposed  possible,  as  upon  that  of  freedom. 

It  appearing  thus,  that  the  notion  of  necessity  does  not  destroy 


Chap.  VI,  as  influencing  Practice.  99 

the  proof  that  there  is  an  intelligent  author  of  nature  and  natural 
governor  of  the  world,  th,e  present  question,  which  the  analogy  be- 
fore mentioned*  suggests,  and  which,  I  think,  it  will  answer,  is  this — 
whether  the  opinion  of  necessity,  supposed  consistent  with  possibili- 
ty, with  the  constitution  of  the  world,  and  the  natural  government 
which  we  experience  exercised  over  it,  destroys  all  reasonable  ground 
of  belief  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  religion;  or  whether  that  opinion 
be  reconcileable  with  religion,  with  the  system  and  the  proof  of  it. 

Suppose  then  a  fatalist  to  educate  any  one  from  his  youth  up,  in 
his  own  principles;  that  the  child  should  reason  upon  them,  and  con- 
clude that  since  he  cannot  possibly  behave  otherwise  than  he  does, 
he  is  not  a  subject  of  blame  or  commendation,  nor  can  deserve  to  be 
rewarded  or  punished:  imagine  him  to  eradicate  the  ver^y  percep- 
tions of  blame  and  commendation  out  of  his  mind,  by  means  of  this 
system;  to  form  his  temper,  and  character,  and  behaviour  to  it,  and 
from  it  to  judge  of  the  treatment  he  was  to  expect,  say  from  reasona- 
ble men,  upon  his  coming  abroad  into  the  world;  as  the  fatalist 
judges  from  this  system  what  he  is  to  expect  from  the  author  of  na- 
ture and  with  regard  to  a  future  state.  I  cannot  forbear  stopping 
here  to  ask,  whether  any  one  of  common  sense  would  think  fit  that  a 
child  should  be  put  upon  these  speculations,  and  be  left  to  apply 
them  to  practice.  And  a  man  has  little  pretence  to  reason,  who  is 
not  sensible  that  we  are  all  children  in  speculations  of  this  kind. 
However,  the  child  would  doubtless  be  highly  delighted  to  find  him- 
self freed  from  the  restraints  of  fear  and  shame,  with  which  his 
playfellows  were  fettered  and  embarrassed,  and  highly  conceited  in 
his  superior  knowledge  ,so  far  beyond  his  years.  But  conceit  and 
vanity  would  be  the  least  bad  part  of  the  influence  wliich  these  prin- 
ciples must  have,  when  thus  reasoned  and  acted  upon,  during  the 
course  of  his  education.  He  must  either  be  allowed  to  go  on  and  be  . 
the  plague  of  all  about  him,  and  himself  too,  even  to  his  own  de- 
struction, or  else  correction  must  be  continually  made  use  of,  to  sup- 
ply the  want  of  those  natural  perceptions  of  blame  and  commenda- 
tion which  we  have  supposed  to  be  removed,  and  to  give  him  a  prac- 
tical impression  of  what  he  had  reasoned  himself  out  of  tlie  belief 
of,  that  he  was  in  fact  an  accountable  child,  and  to  be  punished  for 
doing  what  he  was  forbid.  It  is  therefore  in  reality  impossible,  but 
that  the  correction  which  he  must  meet  with,  in  the  course  of  his  ed- 
ucation, must  convince  him  that  if  the  scheme  he  was  instructed  in 
were  not  false,  yet  that  he  reasoned  inconclusively  upon  it,  ami  some 
how  or  other  misapplied  it  to  practice  and  common  life:  as  what  the 
fatalist  experiences  of  the  conduct  of  Providence  at  present,  ought 
in  all  reason  to  convince  him  that  this  scheme  is  misapplied  when 
applied  to  the  subject  of  religion.  But  supposing  the  child's  tem- 
per could  remain  still  formed  to  the  system,  and  his  expectation  of 
the  treatment  he  was  to  have  in  the  world  be  regulated  by  it,  so  as  to 
expect  that  no  reasonable  man  would  blame  or  punish  him  for  any 
thing  which  he  should  do,  because  he  could  not  help  doing  it — upon 
this  supposition  it  is  manifest  he  would,  upon  his  coming  abroad  into 
the  world,  be  insupportable  to  society,  and  the  treatment  which  he 

*^Page  07. 


100  Of  the  Opinio^i  of'  JKWensityt  Part  1. 

would  receive  from  it  would  render  it  so  to  liim,  and  'oe  could  not 
fail  of  doing  somewhat  very  soon  for  which  he  would  be  delivered 
over  info  the  hands  of  civil  justice.  And  thus,  in  the  end,  he  would 
be  convinced  of  the  obligations  he  was  under  to  his  wise  instructor. 
0.r  suppose  this  scheme  of  fatality  in  any  other  way  applied  to  prac- 
tice, such  practical  application  of  it  will  be  found  equally  absurd, 
equally  fallacious  in  a  practical  sense.  For  instance,  that  if  a  man 
be  destined  to  live  such  a  time,  he  shall  live  to  it,  though  he  take  no 
care  of  his  own  preservation;  or  if  he  be  destined  to  die  before  that 
time,  no  care  can  prevent  it;  therefore  all  care  about  preserving 
one's  life  is  to  be  neglected,  which  is  the  fallacy  instanced  in  by  the 
ancients.  But  now  on  the  contrary,  none  of  these  practical  absurdi- 
ties can  be'drawn  from  reasoning  upon  the  supposition  that  we  are 
free;  but  all  such  reasoning  with  regard  to  the  common  aflairs  of  life 
is  justified  by  experience.  And  therefore,  though  it  were  admitted 
that  this  opinion  of  necessity  were  spt'culatively  true,  yet  with  re- 
gard to  practice  it  is  as  if  it  were  false,  so  far  as  our  experience 
reaches;  that  is,  to  the  whole  of  our  present  life.  For,  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  present  world,  and  the  condition  in  which  we  are  actual- 
ly placed,  is  as  if  we  were  free.  And  it  may  perhaps  justly  be  con- 
cluded, that  since  the  whole  process  of  action,  through  every  step  of 
it,  suspense,  deliberation,  inclining  one  way.  determining,  and  at 
last  doing  as  we  determine,  is  as  if  we  were  free,  therefore  we  are 
so.  But  the  thing  here  insisted  upon  is,  that  under  the  present  nat- 
ural government  of  the  world,  we  find  we  are  treated  and  dealt  xvith 
as  if  we  were  free,  prior  to  all  consideration  whether  we  are  or  not. 
Were  this  opinion  therefore  of  necessity  admitted  to  be  ever  so 
true,  yet  such  is  in  fact  our  condition  and  the  natural  course  of 
things,  that  whenever  we  apply  it  to  life  and  practice,  this  applica- 
tior  of  it  always  misleads  us,  and  cann(jt  but  mislead  us,  in  a  most 
dreadful  manner,  with  regard  to  our  present  interest.  And  how  can 
people  think  thetnselves  so  very  secure  then,  that  the  satne  applica- 
tion of  the  same  opinion  may  not  mislead  them  alsi;,  in  some  analo- 
gous manner,  with  respect  to  a  future  or  more  general  and  more  im- 
portant interest.^  For,  religion  being  a  practical  subject,  and  the 
analogy  of  nature  shewitig  us  that  we  have  not  faculties  to  apply  this 
opinion,  were  it  a  true  one,  to  practical  subjects,  whenever  we  do  ap- 
ply it  to  the  subject  of  religion,  and  thence  conclude  that  we  are 
free  from  its  obligations,  it  is  plain  this  conclusion  cannot  be  de- 
pended upon.  There  \^ill  still  remain  just  reason  to  think,  whatev- 
PT  appearances  are,  that  we  deceive  ourselves:  in  somev.hat  of  a 
like  manner,  as  when  people  fancy  they  can  draw  contradictory  con- 
clusions from  the  idea  of  infinity. 

From  these  things  together,  the  attentive  reader  will  see  it  follows, 
that  if  upon  supposition  <tf  freedom  the  evidence  of  religion  be  con- 
clusive, it  remains  so  upon  supposition  of  necessity,  because  the  no- 
tion of  necessity  is  not  applicable  to  practical  subjects,  i.  e.  with  re- 
spect to  them,  is  as  if  it  were  not  true.  Nor  does  this  contain  any 
reflection  upon  reason,  hut  only  upon  what  is  unreasonable.  For 
to  pretenid  to  act  upon  reason,  in  opposition  to  practical  principles, 
which  the  author  or  our  nature  gave  us  to  act  upon,  and  to  pretend 
*o  apply  <>'.ir  reason  to  subjects,  with  regard  to  which  our  own  shprfc 


Chap.  VI.  as  infimncing  Practice.  IM 

views,  and  even  our  experience,  will  shew  us  it  cannot  be  depended 
upon,  and  such  at  best  the  subject  of  necessity  must  be,  this  is  vani- 
ty, conceit  and  unreasonableness. 

But  this  is  not  all;  for  we  find  within  ourselves  a  will,  and  are 
conscious  of  a  character.  Now  if  this  in  us  be  reconcileable  with 
fate,  it  is  reconcileable  with  it  in  the  author  of  nature.  And  besides, 
natural  government  and  final  causes  imply  a  character  and  a  will  in 
the  governor  and  designerj*  a  will  concerning  the  creatures  whom 
he  governs.  The  author  of  nature  then  being  certainly  of  some 
character  or  other,  notwithstanding  necessity,  it  is  evident  this  ne- 
cessity is  as  reconcileable  with  the  particular  character  of  benevo- 
lence, veracity  and  justice  in  him,  which  attributes  are  the  founda- 
tion of  rsligion,  as  with  any  other  character;  since  we  find  this  ne- 
cessity no  more  hinders  men  from  being  benevolent  than  cruel,  true 
than  faithless,  just  than  unjust,  or  if  the  fatalist  pleases,  what  we 
call  unjust.  For  it  is  said  indeed,  that  what,  upon  supposition  of 
freedom,  would  be  just  punishment,  upon  supposition  of  necessity 
becomes  manifestly  unjust,  fiecause  it  is  punishment  inflicted  for  do- 
ing that  which  persons  cannot  avoid  doing;  as  if  (he  necessity  which 
is  supposed  to  destroy  the  injustice  ot  murder,  for  instance,  would 
not  also  destroy  the  injustice  of  punishing  it  However,  as  little  to 
the  purpose  as  this  objection  is  m  itse'f,  it  is  very  much  to  the  pur- 
pose to  observe  from  it  how  the  notions  of  justice  and  injustice  re- 
main, even  whilst  we  endeavor  to  suppose  them  removed;  how  they 
force  themselves  upon  the  mind,  even  whilst  we  are  making  supposi- 
tions destructive  of  them:  for  there  is  not,  perhaps,  a  man  in  the 
■world,  but  would  be  ready  to  make  this  objection  at  first  thought. 

But  though  it  is  most  evident,  that  universal  necessity,  if  it  be  re- 
concileable with  any  thing,  is  reconcileable  with  that  character  in  the 
Author  of  nature  which  is  the  foundation  of  religion,  "yet,  does  it 
not  plainly  destroy  the  proof  that  he  is  ol  that  character,  and  conse- 
quently the  proof  of  religion?"  By  no  means.  For  we  find,  that  hap- 
piness an<l  misery  are  not  our  fate,  in  any  such  sense  as  not  to  be  the 
consequences  of  our  behaviour;  but  that  they  are  the  consequences 
ofitf  We  find  God  exercises  the  same  kind  of  government  over  us 
with  that  which  a  father  exercises  over  his  children,  and  a  civil  mag- 
istrate over  his  subjects.  Now,  whatever  becomes  of  abstract  ques- 
tions concerning  liberty  and  necessity,  it  evidently  appears  to  us, 
that  veracity  and  justice  must  be  the  natural  rule  and  measure  of  ex- 
ercising this  authority  or  government,  to  a  Being  who  can  have  no 
competitions,  or  interfering  of  interests,  with  his  creatures  and  his 
subjects. 

But  as  the  doctrine  of  liberty,  though  we  experience  its  truth,  may 
be  perplexed  with  difficulties,  which  run  up  into  the  most  abstruse  of 
all  speculations,  and  as  the  opinion  of  necessity  seems  to  he  the  very 
basis  upon  which  infidelity  grounds  itself,  it  may  be  of  some  use  to 

*  By  will  and  character  is  meant  that  which,  in  speaking  of  men,  we  should  express, 
not  only  by  these  words,  but  also  by  the  words,teroper,  taste,  dispositions,  practical  prin- 
ciples; that  whole  trame  ot  mind,  from  whence  we  act  in  one  manner  rather  thin  an  . 
other. 

■j-Chap.  ii. 


102  Of  the  Opinion  of  J^eeessity,  Part  I. 

offer  a  more  particular  proof  of  the  obligations  of  religion,  which  may 
distinctly  be  shewn  not  to  be  destroyed  by  this  opinion. 

The  proof  from  final  causes  of  an  intelligent  Author  of  nature  is 
not  aftected  by  the  opinion  of  necessity,  supposing  necessity  a  thing 
possible  in  itself,  and  rcconcileable  with  the  constitution  of  things.* 
And  it  is  a  matter  of  fact,  independent  on  this  or  any  other  specula- 
tion, that  he  governs  the  world  by  the  method  of  rewards  and  pun- 
ishments;! and  also  that  he  hath  given  us  a  moral  faculty,  by  which 
we  distinguish  between  actions,  and  approve  some  as  virtuous  and  of 
good  desert,  and  disapprove  others  as  vicious  and  of  ill  desert. t 
Now  this  moral  (tiscernment  implies  in  the  notion  of  it  a  rule  of 
action,  and  a  rule  of  a  very  peculiar  kindj  for  it  carries  in  it  author- 
ity and  a  right  of  direction;  authority  in  such  a  sense,  as  that  we 
cannot  depart  from  it  without  being  self  condemned. §  And  that  the 
dictates  of  this  moral  faculty,  which  are  by  nature  a  rule  to  us,  are 
moreover  the  laws  of  God,  laws  in  a  sense  including  sanctions,  may 
be  thus  proved.  Consciousness  of  a  rule  or  guide  of  action,  in  crea- 
tures who  are  capable  of  considering  it  as  given  them  by  their  Maker, 
not  only  raises  immediately  a  sense  of  duty,  but  also  a  sense  of  secu- 
rity in  following  it,  and  of  danger  in  deviating  from  it.  A  direction 
of  the  Author  of  nature,  given  to  creatures  capable  of  looking  upon 
it  as  such,  is  plainly  a  command  from  him;  and  a  command  from 
him  necessarily  includes  in  it,  at  least,  an  implicit  promise  in  case 
of  obedience,  or  threatening  in  case  of  disobedience.  But  then  the 
sense  or  perception  of  good  and  ill  desert,||  which  is  contained  in  the 
moral  discernmeiit,  renders  the  sanction  explicit,  and  makes  it  ap- 
\  pear,  as  one  may  say,  expressed.  For  since  his  method  of  govern- 
ment is  to  reward  and  punish  actions,  his  having  annexed  to  some 
actions  an  inseparable  sense  of  good  desert,  and  to  others  of  ill,  this 
surely  amounts  to  declaring  upon  whom  his  punishments  shall  be 
inflicted,  and  his  rewards  be  bestowed.  For  he  must  have  given  us 
this  discernment  and  sense  of  things,  as  a  presentiment  of  what  is  to 
be  hereafter;  that  is,  by  way  of  information  beforehand  what  we  are 
finally  to  expect  in  his  world.  There  is  then  most  evident  ground 
to  think,  that  the  government  of  God,  upon  the  whole,  will  be  found 
to  correspond  to  the  nature  which  he  has  given  us;  and  that  in  the 
upshot  and  issue  of  things,  happiness  and  misery  shall,  in  fact  and 
event,  he  made  to  follow  virtue  and  vice  respectively,  as  he  has 
already,  in  so  peculiar  a  manner,  associajted  the  ideas  of  them  in  our 
minds.  And  from  hence  might  easily  be  deduced  the  obligations  of 
religious  worship,  were  it  only  to  be  considered  as  a  means  of  pre- 
serving upon  our  minds  a  sense  of  this  moral  government  of  God,  and 
securing  our  obedience  to  it;  which  yet  is  an  extremely  imperfect 
view  of  that  most  important  duty. 

Now  I  say,  no  objection  from  necessity  can  lie  against  this  general 
proof  of  religion.  None  against  the  proposition  reasoned  upon,  that 
we  have  such  a  moral  faculty  and  discernment,  because  this  is  a  mere 
matter  of  fact,  a  thing  of  experience,  that  human  kind  is  thus  consti- 
tuted; none  against  the  conclusion,  because  it  is  immediate  and 

*■  P.  97,  &c,         f  Chap.  ii.        i  Dissertation  II.        §  Sermon  2,  at  the  Rolls. 
1!  Dissertation  £1. 


Chap.  VI.  as  influencing  Practice.  103 

wholly  from  this  fact.  For  the  conclusion,  that  God  will  finally  re- 
ward the  righteous  and  punish  the  wicked,  is  not  here  drawn  from  its 
appearing  to  us  fit*  that  he  should,  but  from  its  appearing  that  he  has 
told  us  he  will.  And  this  he  hath  certainly  told  us,  in  the  promise 
and  threatening  which  it  hath  been  observed  the  notion  of  a  com- 
mand implies,  and  the  sense  of  good  and  ill  desert  which  he  has 
given  us,  more  distincly  expresses.  And  this  reasoning  from  fact  is 
confirmed,  and  in  some  degree  even  verified,  by  other  facts;  by  the 
natural  tendencies  of  virtue  and  of  vice;!  and  by  this,  that  God,  in 
the  natural  course  of  his  providence,  punishes  vicious  actions  as  mis- 
chievous to  society,  and  also  vicious  actions,  as  such  in  the  strictest 
sense,  t  So  that  the  general  proof  of  religion  is  unanswerably  real, 
even  upon  the  wild  supposition  which  we  are  arguing  upon. 

It  must  likewise  be  observed  farther,  that  natural  religion  hath, 
besides  this,  an  external  evidence,  which  the  doctrine  of  necessity, 
if  it  could  be  true,  would  not  aftect.  For  suppose  a  person,  by  the 
observations  and  reasoning  above,  or  by  any  other,  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  religion;  that  there  is  a  God,  who  made  the  world,  who  is 
the  moral  Governor  and  Judge  of  mankind,  and  will  upon  the  whole 
deal  with  every  one  according  to  his  works;  I  say,  suppose  a  persoa 
convinced  of  this  by  reason,  but  to  know  nothing  at  all  of  antiquity, 
or  the  present  state  of  mankind;  it  would  be  nataural  for  such  an  one 
to  be  inquisitive  what  was  the  history  of  this  system  of  doctrine;  at 
what  time,  and  in  what  manner,  it  came  first  into  the  world,  and 
whether  it  were  believed  by  any  considerable  part  of  it.  And  were 
he,  upon  inquiry  to  find,  that  a  particular  person  in  a  late  age,  first 
of  all  proposed  it,  as  a  deduction  of  reason,  and  that  mankind  were 
before  wholly  ignorant  of  it;  then,  though  its  evidence  from  reason 
would  remain,  there  would  be  no  additional  probability  of  its  truth, 
from  the  account  of  its  discovery.  But  instead  of  this  being  the  fact 
of  the  case,  on  the  contrary  be  would  find,  what  could  not  but  afford 
him  a  very  strong  confirmation  of  its  truth,  first,  that  somewhat  of 
this  system,  with  more  or  fewer  additions  and  alterations,  hath  been 
professed  in  all  ages  and  countries,  of  which  we  have  any  certain  in- 
formation relating  to  this  matter.  Secondly,  that  it  is  certain  histor- 
ical fact,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  things  up,  that  this  whole  system  of 
belief,  that  there  is  one  God,  the  Creator  and  moral  Governor  of  the 
world,  and  that  mankind  is  in  a  state  of  religion,  was  received  in  the 
first,  ages.  And,  thirdly,  that  as  there  is  no  hint  or  intimation  in  history, 
that  this  system  was  first  reasoned  out,  so  there  is  express  historical 

*  However,  I  am  far  from  intending  to  deny  that  the  will  of  God  is  determined,  hj 
what  is  fit,  by  the  right  and  reason  of  the  case;  though  one  chooses  to  decline  matter.- 
of  such  abstvact  speculation,  and  to  speak  with  caution  when  one  does  speak  of  them. 
But  if  it  be  intelligible  to  say,  that  it  is  fit  and  reasonable  for  every  one  to  consult  hia 
own  happiness,  then  fitness  of  action,  or  the  right  and  reason  of  the  case,  is  an  intelligi- 
■Ifle  manner  of  speaking.  And  it  seems  as  inconceivable  to  suppose  God  to  approve  one 
course  of  action,  or  one  end,  preferable  to  another,  which  yet  his  acting  at  all  from  de- 
sign  implies  that  he  does,  without  supposing  somewhat  prior  in  that  end  to  be  the  ground 
of  the  preference,  as  to  suppose  him  to  discern  an  absti-act  proposition  to  be  true,  with- 
out supposing  somewhat  prior  in  it  to  be  the  ground  of  the  discernment.  It  doth  not 
therefore  appear,  that  moral  right  is  any  more  relative  to  perception  than  abstract  truth 
is;  or  that  it  is  any  more  improper  to  speak  of  the  fitness  and  rightnes  of  actions  and 
f^Tids,  as  founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  than  to  speak  of  abstract  truth,  as  thus  founded 

tP.70.  tP.66,&c. 


'l$l|4  Of  the  Opinion  'of  ^'*ecesiityy  Part  I. 

or  traditional  evidence,  as  ancient  as  history,  that  it  was  taught  first 
by  revelation.  Now  these  things  must  be  allowed  to  be  of  great  weight. 
The  first  of  them,  general  consent,  shews  this  system  to  be  conform- 
able to  the  common  sense  of  mankind.  The  second,  namely,  that 
religion  was  believed  in  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  especially  as  it 
does  not  appear  that  there  were  then  any  superstitious  or  false  addi- 
tions to  it,  cannot  but  be  a  farther  confirmation  of  its  truth.  For  it 
is  a  proof  of  this  alternative,  either  that  it  came  into  the  yvorld  by 
revelation,  or  that  it  is  natural,  obvious,  and  forces  itself  upon  tke 
mind.  The  former  of  these  is  the  conclusion  of  learned  men.  And 
whoever  will  consider  how  unapt  for  speculation  rude  and  unculti- 
vated minds  are,  will,  perhaps  from  hence  alone,  be  strongly  inclined 
to  believe  it  the  truth.  And  as  it  is  shewn  in  the  second  part*  of  this 
treatise,  that  there  is  nothing  of  such  peculiar  presumption  against  a 
revelation  in  tlie  beginning  of  the  world,  as  there  is  supposed  to  be 
against  subsequent  ones,  a  sceptic  could  not,  I  think, give  any  account, 
which  would  appear  more  probable  even  to  himself,  o^  the  early  pre- 
tences to  revelation,  than  by  supposing  some  real  original  one,  from 
whence  they  were  copied.  And  the  third  thing  abovementioued,  that 
there  is  express  historical  or  traditional  evidence  as  ancient  as  history, 
of  the  system  of  religion  being  taught  mankind  by  revelation;  this 
must  be  admitted  as  some  degree  of  real  proof  that  it  was  so  tauglit. 
For  why  should  not  the  most  ancient  tradition  be  admitted,  as  some 
additional  proof  of  a  fact,  against  which  there  is  no  presumption.'' 
And  this  proof  is  mentioned  here,  because  it  has  its  weight  to  shew, 
that  religion  came  into  the  world  by  revelation,  prior  to  all  consider- 
ation of  the  proper  authority  of  any  book  supposed  to  contain  it,  and 
even  prior  to  all  consideration  whether  the  revelation  itself  be  uncor- 
ruptly  handed  down  aud  related,  or  mixed  and  darkened  with  fables. 
Thus  the  historical  account  which  we  have  of  the  origin  of  religion, 
taking  in  all  circumstances,  is  a  real  confirmation  of  its  truth  no  way 
affected  by  the  opinion  of  necessity.  And  the  e.rfernci  evidence, 
even  of  natural  religion,  is  by  no  means  inconsiderable. 

But  it  is  carefully  to  be  observed,  and  ought  to  be  recollected  after 
all  proofs  of  virtue  and  religion,  which  are  only  general,  that  as  spec- 
ulative reason  may  be  neglected,  prejudiced  and  deceived — so  also 
may  our  moral  understanding  be  impaired  and  perverted,  and  the 
dictates  of  it  not  impartially  attended  to.  This  indeed  proves  nothing 
against  the  reality  of  our  speculative  or  practical  faculties  of  percep- 
tion; against  their  being  intended  by  nature  to  inform  us  in  the  theory 
of  things,  and  instruct  us  how  we  are  to  behave,  and  what  we  are  to 
expect  in  consequence  of  our  behaviour.  Yet  our  liableness,  in  the 
degree  we  are  liable,  to  prejudice  and  perversion,  is  a  most  serious 
admonition  to  us  to  be  upon  our  guard  with  respect  to  what  is  of  such 
consequence  as  our  determinations  concerning  virtue  and  religion, 
and  particularly  not  to  take  custoin,  and  fashion,  and  slight  notions  ' 
of  honoor,  or  imaginations  of  present  ease,  use  and  convenience  to 
mankind  for  the  only  moral  rulef 

The  foregoing  observations,  drawn  from  the  nature  of  the  thing, 
and  the  history  of  religion,  amount,  when  taken  together,  to  a  real 

*  Chap.  ii.        I  Dissertation  II. 


(JiiAP.  VI.  as  influenced  by  Practice.  105 

practical  proof  of  it,  not  to  be  confuted;  such  a  proof  as,  cons?dering 
the  iolinite  importance  of  the  thing,  I  apprehend  would  be  admitted 
fully  sufficient,  in  reason,  to  inHuence  the  actions  of  men  wlio-act 
upon  thought  and  reflection,  if  it  were  admitted  that  there  is  no  proof 
of  the  rontrary.  But  it  may  be  said,  "  there  are  many  probabilities, 
which  cannot  indeed  be  confuted,  i.  e.  shewn  to  be  no  probabilities, 
and  yet  may  be  overbalanced  by  greater  probabilities  on  the  other 
side;  much  more  by  demonstration.  And  there  is  no  occasion  to 
object  against  particular  arguments  alleged  for  an  opinion,  when 
the  opinion  itself  may  be  clearly  shewn  to  be  false,  without  meddling 
with  sueh  arguments  at  all,  but  leaving  them  just  as  they  are.  Now 
the  method  of  government  by  rewards  and  punishments,  and  espe- 
cially rewarding  and  punishing  good  and  ill  ilesert,  as  such,  respec- 
tively, must  go  upon  supposition  that  we  are  free,  anel  not  necessary 
agents.  And  it  is  incredible  that  the  Author  of  nature  should  gov- 
ern us  upon  a  supposition  as  true,  which  he  knows  to  be  false;  and 
therefore  absurd  to  think  he  will  reward  or  punish  us  for  our  actions 
hereafter,  especially  that  he  will  do  it  under  the  notion  that  thej 
are  of  good  or  ill  desert.*'  Here  then  the  matter  is  brought  to  a 
point.  And  the  answer  to  all  this  is  full,  and  not  to  be  evaded,  that 
the  whole  constitution  and  course  of  things,  the  whole  analogy  of 
Providence,  shews  beyond  possibility  of  doubt,  that  the  conclusion 
from  this  reasoning  is  false,  wherever  the  fallacy  lies.  The  doctrine 
of  freedom  indeed  clearly  shows  where;  \n  supposing  ourselves  ne- 
cessary, when  in  truth  we  are  free  agents.  But  upon  the  supposi- 
tion of  necessity,  the  fallacy  lies  in  taking  for  granted,  that  it  is 
incredible  necessary  agents  should  be  rewarded  and  punished.  But 
that,  some  how  or  other,  the  conclusion  now  mentioned  is  false^, 
is  most  certain.  For  it  is  fact,  that  God  does  govern  even  brute 
creatures  by  the  method  of  rewards  and  punishments,  in  the  natural 
course  of  things.  And  men  are  rewarded  and  punished  for  their 
actions,  punished  for  actions  mischievous  to  society  as  being  so,  pun- 
ished for  vicious  actions,  as  such,  by  the  natural  instrumentality  of 
eaclf  other,  under  the  present  conduct  of  Providence.  Nay  even  the 
affection  of  gratitude,  and  the  passion  of  resentment,  and  the  re- 
wards and  punishments  following  from  them,  which  in  general  are  to 
be  considered  as  natural,  i.  e.  from  tlie  Author  of  nature — these  re- 
wards and  punishments,  being  naturally*  annexed  to  actions  consid- 
ered as  implying,  good  intention  and  good  desert,  ill  intention  and 
ill  desert — these  natural  rewards  and  punishments,  I  say,  are  as 
much  a  contradiction  to  the  conclusion  above,  and  shew  its  false- 
hoo<l,  as  a  more  exact  and  complete  rewarding  and  punishing  of  good 
and  ill  desert,  as  such.  So  that  if  it  be  incredible  that  necessary 
agen.ts  should  be  thus  rewarded  and  punished,  then  men  are  not  ne- 
cessary, but  free;  since  it  is  matter  of  fact  that  they  are  thus  rewar- 
ded and  punished.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  which  is  the  supposition 
we  have  been  arguing  upon,  it  be  insisted  that  men  are  necessary 
agents,  then  there  is  nothing  incredible  in  the  farther^upposition  of 
necessary  agents  being  thus  rewarded  and  punished,  since  we  onr- 
seves  are  thus  dealt  with. 

*  Sermon  8i.b,  at  the  Rolls, 

o 


106  Of  the  Opinion  of  JVecessity,  Part  I. 

From  the  vrhole,  thereforey  it  must  follow,  that  a  necessity  suppo- 
sed possible,  and  reconcileable  with  the  constitution  of  things,  does 
in  no  sort  prove  that  the  Author  of  nature  will  not,  nor  destroy  the 
proof  that  he  will,  finally  and  upon  the  whole,  in  his  eternal  govern- 
ment, render  his  creatures  happy  or  miserable,  by  some  means  or 
other,  as  they  behave  well  or  ill.  Or,  to  express  this  conclusion  in 
words  conformable  to  the  title  of  the  chapter,  the  analogy  of  nature 
shews  us,  that  the  opinion  of  necessity,  considered  as  practical,  is 
false.  And  if  necessity,  upon  the  supposition  above  mentioned, 
doth  not  destroy  the  proof  of  natural  religion,  it  evidently  makes  no 
alteration  in  the  proof  of  revealed. 

From  these  things  likewise  we  may  learn,  in  what  sense  to  under- 
stand that  general  assertion,  that  the  opinion  of  necessity  is  essen- 
tially destructive  of  all  religion.  First  in  a  practical  sense;  that  by 
this  notion,  atheistical  men  pretend  to  satisfy  and  encourage  them* 
selves  in  vice,  and  justify  to  others  their  disregard  to  all  religion. 
And  secondly,  in  the  strictest  sense,  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  the 
whole  constitution  of  nature,  and  to  what  we  may  every  moment  ex- 
perience in  ourselves,  and  so  overturns  every  thing.  But  by  no 
means  is  this  assertion  to  be  understood,  as  if  necessity,  supposing  it 
could  possibly  be  reconciled  with  the  constitution  of  things  and  with 
what  we  experience,  were  not  also  reconcileable  with  religion;  foi* 
upon  this  supposition  it  demonstrably  is  so. 


r1 


Chap.  VIL  Of  the  Qovemmtnt  of  God,  107 


CHAP.  VIL 


Of  the  Government  of  God,  considered  as  a  Schent  or  Comtitution* 
imperfectly  comprehendid. 

THOUGH  it  he,  as  it  cannot  but  be,  acknowledged,  that  the  anal- 
ogy of  nature  gives  a  strong  credibility  to  the  general  doctrine  of  reli- 
gion, and  to  the  several  particular  things  contained  in  it,  considered 
as  so  many  matters  of  fact,  and  likewise  that  it  shews  this  credibility 
not  to  be  destroyed  by  any  notions  of  necessity —yet  still  objections 
may  be  insisted  upon  against  the  wisdom,  equity  and  goodness  of 
the  divine  government  implied  in  the  notion  of  religion,  and  against 
the  method  by  which  this  government  is  conducted;  to  which  objec- 
tions analogy  can  be  no  direct  answer.  For  the  credibility  or  the 
certain  truth  of  a  matter  of  fact  does  not  immediately  prove  any 
thing  concernins;  the  wisdom  or  goodness  of  it;  and  analogy  can  do 
no  more,  immediately  or  directly,  than  shew  such  and  such 'things  to 
be  true  or  credible,  considered  only  as  matters  of  fact.  But  still,  if, 
upon  supposition  of  a  moral  constitution  of  nature  and  a  moral  gov- 
ernment over  it,  analogy  suggests  and  makes  it  credible  that  this 
government  must  be  a  scheme,  system,  or  constitution  of  government, 
as  distinguished  from  a  number  of  single  unconnected  acts  of  distri- 
butive justice  and  goodness,  and  likewise  that  it  must  be  a  scheme 
so  imperfectly  comprehended,  and  of  such  a  sort  in  other  respects, 
as  to  afford  a  direct  general  answer  to  all  objections  against  the  jus- 
tice and  goodness  of  it — then  analogy  is^  remotely,  of  great  service 
in  answering  those  objections,  both  by  suggesting  the  answer,  and 
shewing  it  to  be  a  credible  one. 

Now  this,  upon  inquiry,  will  be  found  to  be  the  case.  For,  first, 
upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a  moral  government  over  the 
world,  the  analogy  of  his  natural  government  suggests  and  makes  it 
credible  that  his  moral  government  must  be  a  scheme  quite  beyond 
our  comprehension;  and  this  affords  a  general  answer  to  all  objections 
against  the  justice  and  goodness  of  it.  And,  secondly,  a  more  dis- 
tinct observation  of  some  particular  things  contained  in  6od*s  scheme 
of  natural  government,  the  like  things  being  supposed  by  analogy  to 
be  contained  in  his  moral  governiiient,  will  farther  shew  how  little 
weight  is  to  be  laid  upon  these  objections. 

I.  Upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a  moral  government  over 
the  world,  the  analogy  of  his  natural  government  suggests  and  makes 
it  credible  that  his  moral  government  must  be  a  scheme  quite  beyond 
Qur  comprehension;  and  this  affords  a  general  answer  to  ail  objections 
against  the  justice  and  goodness  of  it.  It  is  most  obvious,  analogy 
renders  it  highly  credible,  that  upon  supposition  of  a  moral  govern- 
ment, it  must  be  a  scheme;  for  the  world,  and  the  whole  natural  gov- 


108  The  Government  of  Ood,  J?a ui  I 

ernment  of  it,  appears  to  be  so,  to  be  a  scheme,  system,  or  constitu- 
tion, whose  parts  correspond  to  eacfi  other  and  to  a  whole,  as  really 
as  any  work  of  art,  or  as  any  particular  miodel  of  a  civil  constitution 
and  government.  In  this  great  scheme  of  the  natural  world,  individ- 
uals have  various  peculiar  relations  to  other  individuals  of  Ihcir  own 
species.  And  whole  species  are,  we  find,  variously  related  to  other 
apecies  upon  this  earth.  Nor  do  we  know  how  much  farther  these 
kinds  of  relations  may  extend.  And,  as  there  is  not  any  action  or 
laatural  event,  which  we  are  acquainted  \Tith,  so  sinj^lc  and  uncon- 
nected as  not  to  have  a  respect  to  some  other  actions  and  events— 
so  possibly  each  of  thetn,  when  it  has  not  an  immediate,  may  yet  have 
a  remote  natural  relation  to  other  actions  and  events,  much  beyond 
the  compass  of  this  present  world.  There  seems  indeed  nothing 
from  whence  we  can  so  much  as  make  a  conjecture,  v.lietlier  all  crea- 
tures, actions  and  events,  throughout  the  whole  of  nature,  have  rela- 
tions to  each  other.  But,  as  it  is  obvious  that  all  events  have  future 
unknown  coftsequences,  so  if  we  tiace  any  as  far  as  we  can  go  into 
what  is  connected  with  it,  we  shall  find,  that  if  such  event  were  not 
connected  with  somewhat  farther  in  nature  unknown  to  us,  soiiie- 
M'hat  both  past  and  present,  stch  event  could  not  possibly  have  been 
at  all.  Nor  can  we  give  the  whole  account  of  any  one  thing  what- 
ever; <)f  all  its  causes,  ends  and  n^ecessary  adjuncts:  those  adjuncts, 
I  mean,  without  which  it  could  not  have  been,  liy  this  most  aston- 
ishing connexion,  these  reciprocal  corresp«ntlencies  and  mutual  rela* 
tions,  every  thing  which  we  see  in  the  course  of  nature  is  actually 
brought  about.  And  things  seemingly  the  most  insignificant  imagin- 
able, are  perpetually  observwl  to  be  necessary  conditions  to  other 
things  of  the  greatest  importance;  so  that  any  one  thing  whatever 
may  for  ought  ue  know  to  the  contrary,  be  a  necessary  condition  to 
any  other.  The  natural  world  then,  and  natural  government  of  it^ 
being  such  an  incomprehensible  scheme,  so  incomprehensible  that  a 
man  must  really  in  the  literal  sense  knovv  nothing  at  all,  who  is  not 
sensible  of  his  ignorance  in  it,  this  immediately  su^i^ests,  and  strong- 
ly shews  the  credibility,  that  the  moral  world  and  government  of  it 
may  be  so  too.  Indeed  the  natural  am;!  moral  constitution  and  gov- 
t;rnment  of  the  woild  are  se  connected,  as  to  make  up  together  but 
one  scheme;  and  it  is  highly  probable,  that  the  first  is  formed  and 
carried  on  merelj"-  in  subserviency  to  the  lat'cr,  as  the  vegetable 
world  is- for  the  animal,  and  organized  bodies  for  minds,  lint  the 
thing  intended  here  is,  witiiout  inquiring  how  far  the  administration 
of  the  natural  world  is  subordinate  to  that  of  the  moral,  only  to  ob- 
serve the  credibility  that  one  should  be  analogous  or  siinilar  to  the 
other;  that  theiefore  every  act  of  divine  justice  and  goodness  may  be 
supposed  to  look  much  beyond  itself,  and  its  immediate  object;  may 
have  some  reference  to  otlier  parts  of  God's  moral  administration, 
and  to  a  general  moral  plan:  and  that  every  circumstance  of  this  his 
moral  government  may  be  adjusted  beforehand  with  a  view  to  the 
whole  of  it.  Tl:us  for  example,; — ^tlie  determined  length  of  fime^and 
the  degrees  and  way  in  which  virtue  is  to  remain  in  a  state  of  war- 
fare and  discipline, and  in  which  wickedness  is  perp^itted  to  have  its 
progress;  tr.e  times  appointed  for  the  execution  of  justice;  the  ap- 
yoitited  i;istruments  of  it;  the  kinds  of  rewards  and  punishments. 


C«AP.  XLl.  a  Scheme  incomprehensiixk,  1Q9 

and  the  manaers  of  their  distribution;  all  particular  instances  of 
<livine  jusfice  arid  goodness,  and  every  circumstance  of  them,  may. 
have  sucli  respects  to  each  qjther  as  to  make  up  altogether  a  whole,' 
connected  and  related  in  all  its  parts;  a  scheme  or  system  which  is 
as  properly  one  as  the  natural  world  is,  and  of  the  like  kind.  And 
supposing  this  to  be  the  .case,  it  is  most  evident  tliat  we  are  not  com- 
petent judges  of  this  scheme,  from  the  small  parts  of  it  which  come 
within  our  view  in  the  present  life;  and  therefore  no  objections 
against  any  of  these  parts  can  be  insisted  upon  by  reasonable  men. 

This  Qur  ignorance,  and  the  consequence  here  drawn  from  it,  are 
universally  acknowledged  upon  other  occasions;  and,  though  scarce 
denied,  yet  are  universally  forgot,  when  persons  come  to  argue 
against  religion.  And  it  is  not  perhaps  easy,  even  for  the  most  lea- 
sonable  men,  always  to  bear  in  mind  the  degree  of  our  ignorance, 
and  make  due  allowances  for  it.  Upon  tliese  accounts,  it  may  not 
be  useless  to  go  on  a  little  farther,  in  order  to  shew  more  distinctly 
how  just  an  answer  our  ignorance  is,  to  objections  against  the  scheme 
of  Providence.  Suppose  then  a  person  boldly  to  assert  that  the 
things  complained^  of,  the  origin  and  continuance  of  evil,  might  easi- 
ly have  been  prevented  by  repeated  interpositions;*  interpositions 
30  guarded  and  circumstanced,  as  would  preclude  all  mischief  aris- 
ing from  them;  or,  if  this  were  impracticable,  that  a  scheme  of  gov- 
ernment is  itself  an  imperfection,  since  more  good  might  have  been 
produced  without  any  scheme,  system,  or  constitution  at  all,  by  con- 
tinued single  unrelated  acts  of  distributive  justice  and  goodness;  be- 
cause these  would  have  occasioned  no  irregularities.  And  farther 
than  this,  it  is  presumed,  the  objections  will  not  be  carried.  Yet 
the  answer  is  obvious,  that  were  these  assertions  true,  still  the  obser- 
vations above,  concerning  our  ignorance  in  the  scheme  of  divine  gov- 
ernment, and  the  consequence  from  it,  would  hold  in  great  meas- 
ure, enough  to  vindicate  religion  against  all  objections  from  the  dis- 
orders of  the  present  state.  Were  these  assertions  true,  yet  thn 
government  of  the  world  might  be  just  and  good  notwithstanding; 
for,  at  the  most,  they  would  infer  nothing  more  than  that  it  might 
have  been  better.  Kut  indeed  they  arc  mere  arbitrary  assertions, 
no  man  being  sujfficiently  acquainted  with  the  possibilities  of  things 
to  bring  any  proof  of  them  to  the  lowest  degree  of  probability.  For 
however  possible  what  is  asserted  may  seem,  yet  many  instances 
may  be  alleged,  in  things  much  less  out  of  our  reach,  of  suppositions 
absolutely  impossible,  and  reducible  to  the  most  palpable  self  con- 
tradictions, which  not  every  one  by  any  means  would  perceive  to  be 
such,  nor  perhaps  any  one  at  first  sight  suspect.  From  these  things 
it  is  easy  to  see  distinctly  how  our  ignorance,  as  it  is  the  common,  is 
really  a  satisfactory  answer  to  all  objections  against  the  justice  and 
goodness  of  Providence.  If  a  man,  contemplating  any  one  provi- 
dential dispensation,  wiiich  had  no  relation  to  any  others,  should  ob- 
ject, that  he  discerned  in  it  a  disregard  to  justice,  or  a  deficiency  of 
goodness,  notliing  would  be  loss  an  answer  toswch  objection  than  our 
Ignorance  in  other  parts  of  Providence,  or  in  the  possibilities  of 
things  no  way  related  to  what  he  was  contemplating.     But  when  w« 

*  Pp.^o  11!. 


110  The  Government  of  Godf  Part  I. 

know  not  but  the  parts  objected  against  may  be  relative  to  other 
parts  unknown  to  us,  and  when  we  are  unacquainted  with  what  is 
in  the  nature  of  the  thing  practicable  in  the  case  before  us,  then  our 
ignorance  is  a  satisfactory  answer;  because,  some  unknown  relation, 
or  some  unknown  impossibility  may  render  what  is  objected  against 
just  and  good;  nay,  good  in  the  highest  practicable  degree. 

II.  And  how  little  weight  is  to  be  laid  upon  such  objections  will 
farther  appear,  by  a  more  distinct  observation  of  some  particular 
things  contained  in  the  natural  government  of  God,  the  like  to  which 
may  be  supposed,  from  analogy;  to  be  contained  in  his  moral  governr 
ment. 

First,  as  in  the  scheme  of  the  natural  world  no  ends  appear  to  be 
accomplished  without  means,  so  we  find  that  means  very  undesirable 
often  conduce  to  bring  a'joi't  ends,  in.  such  a  measure  desirable  as 
greatly  to  overbalance  the  disagreeableness  of  the  means.  And  in 
cases  where  such  means  are  conducive  to  such  ends,  it  is  not  reason, 
but  experience,  which  shews  us  that  they  are  thus  condusive.  Ex- 
perience also  shews  many  means  to  be  conducive  and  necessary  to 
accomplish  ends,  which  means,  before  experience,  we  should  have 
thought  would  have  had  even  a  contrary  tendency.  Now  from  these 
observations  relating  to  the  natural  scheme  of  the  world,  the  moral 
being  supposed  analogous  to  it,  arises  a  great  credibility,  that  the 
putting  our  misery  in  each  other's  power  to  the  degree  it  is,  and  ma- 
king men  liable  to  vice  to  the  degree  we  are — and  in  general,  that 
those  things  which  are  objected  against  the  moral  scheme  of  Provi- 
dence, may  be,  upon  the  whole,  friendly  and  assistant  to  virtue,  and 
productive  of  an  overbalance  of  happiness,  i.  e.  the  things  objected 
against  may  be  means,  by  which  an  overbalance  of  good  will,  in  the 
end,  be  found  produced.  And  from  the  same  observations,  it  ap- 
pears to  be  no  presumption  against  this,  that  we  do  not,  if  indeed 
we  do  not,  see  those  means  to  have  any  such  tendency,  or  that  they 
seem  to  us  to  have  a  contrary  one.  Thus  those  things  which  we  call 
irregularities,  may  not  be  so  at  all;  because  they  may  be  means  of 
accomplishing  wise  and  good  ends  more  considerable.  And  it  may 
be  added,  as  above,  that  they  may  also  be  the  only  means  by  which 
these  wise  and  good  ends  are  capable  of  being  accomplished. 

After  these  observations  it  may  be  proper  to  add,  jn  order  to  ob- 
viate an  absurd  and  wicked  conclusion  from  any  of  them,  that 
though  the  constitution  of  our  nature  from  whence  we  are  capable  of 
vice  and  misery,  may,  as  it  undoubtedly  does,  contribute  to  the  per- 
fection and  happiness  of  the  world;  and  though  the  actual  permis- 
sion of  evil  may  be  beneficial  to  it,  (i.  e.  it  would  have  been  more 
mischievous,  not  that  a  wicked  person  had  himself  abstained  from 
his  own  wickedness,  but  that  any  one  had  forcibly  prevented  it,  than 
that  it  was  permitted)  yet  notwithstanding,  it  might  have  been  much 
better  for  the  world  if  this  very  evil  had  never  been  done.  Nay,  it 
is  most  clearly  conceivable,  that  the  very  commission  of  wickedness 
may  be  beneficial  to  the  world,  and  yet  that  it  would  be  infinitely 
more  beneficial  for  men  to  refrain  from  it.  For  thus,  in  the  wise 
and  good  constitution  of  the  natural  world,  there  are  disorders 
whicii  bring  their  own  cures,  diseases  which  are  themselves  remedies- 
Many  a  man  would  have  died,  had  it  not  been  for  the  gout  or  a  fever; 


Chap.  VII.  a  Scheme  incomprehensible.  Ill 

yet  it  would  be  thought  madness  to  assert,  that  sickness  is  a  better  or 
more  perfect  state  than  health,  though  the  like  with  regard  to  the 
moral  world  has  been  asserted.    But, 

Secondly,  the  natural  government  of  the  world  is  carried  on  by 
general  laws.  For  this  there  may  be  wise  and  good  reasons;  the  wi- 
sest and  best,  for  ought  we  know  to  the  contrary.  And  that  there 
are  such  reasons,  is  suggested  to  our  thoughts  by  the  analogy  of  na- 
ture; by  our  being  made  to  experience  good  ends  to  be  accomplish- 
ed, as  indeed  all  the  good  which  we  enjoy  is  accomplished,  by  this 
means,  that  the  laws  by  which  the  world  is  governed  are  general. 
For  wc  have  scarce  any  kind  of  enjoyments  but  what  we  are  in  some 
way  or  other,  instrumental  in  procuring  ourselves,  by  acting  in  a  man- 
ner which  we  foresee  likely  to  procure  them;  now  this  foresight 
could  not  be  at  all,  were  not  the  government  of  the  world  carried  on 
by  general  laws.  And  though,  for  ought  we  know  to  the  contrary 
every  single  case  may  be  at  length  found  to  have  been  provided  for 
even  by  these,  yet  to  prevent  all  irregularities,  or  remedy  them  as 
they  arise,  by  the  wisest  and  best  general  laws,  may  be  impossible  in 
the  nature  of  things,  as  we  see  it  is  absolutely  impossible  in  civil  gov- 
ernment. But  then  we  are  ready  to  think,  that,  the  constitution  of 
nature  remaining  as  it  is,  and  the  course  of  things  being  permitted  to 
go  on  in  other  respects  as  it  does,  there  might  be  interpositions  to 
prevent  irregularites,  though  they  could  not  have  been  prevented  or 
remedied  by  any  general  laws.  And  there  would  indeed  be  reason  to 
wish,  which,  by  the  way,  is  very  difterent  from  a  right  to  claim,  that 
all  irregularities  were  prevented  or  remedied  by  present  interposi- 
tions, if  these  interpositions  would  have  no  other  effect  than  tijis. 
But  it  is  plain  they  would  have  some  visible  and  immediate  bad  ef- 
fects; for  instance,  they  would  encourage  idleness  and  negligence, 
and  they  would  render  doubtful  the  natural  rule  of  life,  which  is  as- 
certained by  this  very  thing,  that  the  course  of  the  world  is  carried 
on  by  general  laws.  And  farther,  it  is  certain  they  would  have  dis- 
tant effects,  and  very  great  ones  too,  by  means  of  the  wonderful  con- 
nexion before  mentioned.*  So  that  we  cannot  so  much  as  guess 
what  would  be  the  whole  result  of  the  interpositions  desired.  It 
may  be  said,  any  bad  result  might  be  prevented  by  farther  interposi- 
tions, whenever  there  was  occasion  for  them;  but  this  again  is  talk- 
ing quite  at  random,  and  in  the  dark.f  Upon  the  whole  then,  we  see 
wise  reasons,  why  the  course  of  the  world  should  be  carried  on  by 
general  laws,  and  good  ends  accomplished  by  this  means;  and,  for 
ought  we  know,  there  may  be  the  wisest  reasons  for  it,  and  the  best 
ends  accomplished  oy  it.  We  have  no  ground  to  believe,  that  all  ir- 
regularities could  be  remedied  as  they  arise,  or  could  have  been  pre- 
cluded, by  general  laws.  We  find  that  interpositions  would  produce 
evil,  and  prevent  good;  and,  for  ought  we  know,  they  would  produce 
greater  evil  than  they  would  prevent;  and  prevent  greater  good  than 
they  would  produce.  And  if  this  l»  the  case,  then  the  not  interpo- 
sing is  so  far  from  being  a  ground  of  complaint,  that  it  is  an  instance 
of  goodness.  This  is  intelligible  and  sufficient,  and  going  farther 
seems  beyond  the  utmost  reach  of  our  faculties. 

•  Page  107,  kc         f  ^09. 


1X2  The  Government  of  God,  Paui  I, 

But  it  may  be  said,  that  "after  all,  these  supposed  impossibilities 
and  relations  are  what  we  are  unacquainted  with,  and  we  must  jadjic 
of  religion,  as  of  other  things,  by  what  we  do  know,  and  look  upon 
the  rest  as  nothin'g;  or  however,  that  the  answers  here  given  to  what 
is  objected  against  religion,  may  equally  be  made  use  of  to  invalidate 
the  proof  of  it,  since  their  stress  lies  so  very  much  upon  our  igno- 
rance."    J3ut, 

First,  though  total  ignorance  in  any  matter  dcfes  indeed  equally 
^destroy,  or  rather  preclude  all  proof  concerning  it,  and  objections 
against  it,  yet  partial  ignorance  does  not.  For  we  may  in  any  de- 
gree be  convinced,  that  a  person  is  of  such  a  character,  and  conse- 
quently will  pursue  such  ends,  tltotigh  we  are  greatly  ignorant  what 
is  the  proper  way  of  acting,  in  order  the  most  eifectually  to  obtain 
those  ends;  and  in  this  case,  objections  against  his  manner  of  a,cting, 
as  seemingly  not  conducive  to  obtain  them,  might  be  answered  by 
our  ignorance,  though  the  proof  that  such  ends  were  inteniLed  might 
not  at  all  he  invalidated  by  it.  Thus  the  proof  of  religion  is  a  proof 
of  the  moral  character  of  God,  and  consequently  that  his  govern- 
ment is  moral,  and  that  every  one  upon  the  whole  shall  receive  ac- 
cording to  his  deserts;  a  proof  that  this  is  the  designed  end  of  his 
government.  But  we  are  not  competent  judges  what  is  the  proper 
way  of  acting,  in  onler  the  most  eftectually  to  accomplish  this  end.* 
Therefore  our  ignorance  is  an  answer  to  objections  against  the  con- 
duct of  Providence  in  permitting  irregularities,  as  seeming  contra- 
(iictory  to  this  end.  Now,  since  it  is  so  obvious  that  our  ignorance 
may  be  a  satisfactory  answer  to  objections  against  a  thing,  and  yet 
not  utl'ect  the  proof  of  it,  till  it  can  be  shewn,  it  is  frivolous  to  assert 
that  our  ignorance  invalidates  the  proof  of  religion,  as  it  does  tlie 
Jibjections  against  it. 

Secondly,  suppose  unknown  impossibilities  and  unknown  relations 
might  justly  be  urged  to  invalidate  the  proof  of  religion,  as  well  as 
to  answer  objections  against  it,  and  that  in  consequence  of  this  the 
proof  of  it  were  doubtful — yet  still,  let  the  assertion  be  despised,  or  let 
it  be  lidiculed,  it  is  undeniably  true  that  moral  obligations  would  re- 
main  certain,  though  it  were  not  certain  what  would,  upon  the  whole, 
be  the  consequences  of  observing  or  violating  them.  Kor,  these  ob- 
ligations arise  immediately  aad  necessarily  from  the  judgment  of  our 
own  mind,  unless  perverted,  which  we  cannot  violate  without  being 
self  condemned.  And  they  would  be  certain  too,  from  considera- 
tions of  interest.  For  though  it  were  doubtful  what  will  be  the  fu- 
ture consequences  of  virtue  and  vice,  yet  it  is,  however,  credible, 
that  they  may  have  those  consequences  which  religion  teaches  us 
they  will;  and  this  credibility  is  a  certain!  obligation  in  point  of  pru- 
dence, to  abstain  from  all  wickedness,  and  to  live  in  the  conscien- 
tious practice  of  all  that  is  good.     But, 

Thirdly,  the  answers  above  given  to  the  objections  against  reli- 
gion, cannot  equally  be  made  use  of  to  invalidate  the  proof  of  it. 
For,  upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a  moral  government  over 
the  world,  analogy  does  most  strongly  lead  us  to  conclude,  that  this 
moral  government  must  be  a  scheme  or  constitution  beyond  our  com- 

•  Page  43.        j  Part  11  Chap  vi. 


I 


Chap.  VIT.  a  Scfieme  incomprehensible.  1^3 

prehension.  And  a  thousand  particular  analogies  shew  u«,  that 
parts  of  such  a  scheme,  from  their  relation  to  other  parts,  may  con- 
duce to  accomplrsh  ends,  which  we  sliould  have  thought  they  had  no 
tendency  at  all  to  accomplish;  nay  ends,  which  before  experience  we 
should  have  thought  such  parts  were  contradictory  to,  and  had  a  ten- 
dency to  prevent.  And  therefore  all  these  analogies  shew,  that  the 
way  of  arguing  made  use  of  in  objecting  against  religion,  is  delusive; 
because  they  shew  it  is  not  at  all  incredible,that,couid  we  comprehend 
the  whole,  we  should  find  the  permission  of  the  disorders  objected 
against  to  be  consistent  with  justice  and  goodness,  and  even  to  be  in* 
stances  of  them.  Now  this  is  not  applicable  to  the  proof  of  reli- 
gion, as  it  is  to  the  objections  against  it;*  and  therefore  cannot  ia- 
validatc  t!iat  proof,  as  it  does  these  objections. 

Lastly,  from  the  observation  now  made,  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  the 
answers  above  given  to  the  objections  against  Providence,  though  in 
a  general  way  of  speaking,  they  may  be  said  to  be  taken  from  our 
ignorance,  yet  are  by  no  means  taken  merely  from  that,  but  from 
somewhat  which  analogy  shews  us  cojicerning  it.  For  analogy 
shews  us  positively,  that  .our  ignorance  in  the  possibilities  of  things, 
and  the  various  relations  in  nature,  renders  us  incompetent  jitd^es, 
and  leads  us  to  false  conclusions,  in  cases  similar  to  this,  in  which 
we  pretejid  to  judge  and  to  object.  So  t.hat  the  things  above  insisted 
upon,  are  not  mere  suppositions  of  unknown  impossibilities  and  rela- 
tions, but  they  are  suggested  to  our  thoughts  and  even  forced  upon 
the  observation  of  serious  men,  and  remiered  credible  too,  by  the 
analogy  of  nature.  And  therefore,  to  take  these  things  into  the  ac- 
count, is  to  judge  by  experience  and  what  we  do  know:  and  it  is  not 
judging  so,  to  take  no  notice  of  them. 

*■  Sermon  nt  the  Rolls,  page  31 C,  '2d  5 J. 


CONCLUSION. 


THE  observations  of  the  last  chapter  lead  us  to  consider  this  little 
scene  of  human  life,  in  which  we  are  so  busily  engaged,  as  having  a 
reference  of  some  sort  or  other,  to  a  much  larger  plan  of  things. 
Whether  we  are  any  way  related  to  the  more  distant  parts  of  the 
boundless  universe,  into  which  we  are  brought,is  altogether  uncertain. 
But  it  is  evident  that  the  course  of  things  which  comes  within  our 
view  is  connected  with  somewhat  past,  present,  and  future,  beyond 
it.*  So  that  we  are  placed,  as  one  may  speak,  in  the  middle  of  a 
scheme,  not  as  a  fixed  but  a  progressive  one,  every  way  incompre- 
hensible; incomprehensible  in  a  manner  equally  with  respect  to 
what  has  been,  what  now  is,  and  what  shall  be  hereafter.  And  this 
scheme  cannot  but  contain  in  it  somewhat  as  wonderful  and  as  much 
beyond  our  thought  and  conception!  as  any  thing  in  that  of  religion. 
For,  will  any  man  in  his  senses  say,  that  it  is  less  difficult  to  con- 
ceive how  the  world  came  to  be  and  to  continue  as  it  is,  without, 
than  with,  an  intelligent  author  and  governor  of  it?  or,  admitting  an 
intelligent  governor  of  it,  that  there  is  some  other  rule  of  government 
more  natural  and  of  easier  conception  than  that  which  we  call  moral? 
Indeed,  without  an  intelligent  author  and  governor  of  nature,  no 
account  at  all  can  be  given  how  this  universe,  or  the  part  of  it  partic' 
ularly  in  whioh  we  are  concerned,  came  to  be,  and  the  course  of  it  to 
be  carried  on,  as  it  is;  nor  any  of  its  general  end  and  design,  without 
a  moral  governor  of  it.  That  there  is  an  intelligent  author  of  nature 
and  natural  governor  of  the  world,  is  a  principle  gone  upon  ia  the 
foregoing  treatise,  as  proved,  and  generally  known  and  confessed  to 
be  proved.  And  the  very  notion  of  an  intelligent  Author  of  nature, 
proved  by  particular  final  causes,  implies  a  will  and  a  character.| 
Now  as  our  whole  nature,  the  nature  which  he  has  given  us,  leads  us 
to  conclude  his  will  and  character  to  be  moral,  just  and  good — so  we 
can  scarce  in  imagination  conceive  what  it  can  be  otherwise.  How- 
ever, in  consequence  of  this  his  will  and  character,  whatever  it  be, 
he  formed  the  universe  as  it  is,  and  carries  on  the  course  of  it  as  he 
does,  rather  than  in  any  other  manner;  and  has  assigned  to  us,  and  to 
all  living  creatures,  a  part  and  a  lot  in  it.  Irrational  creatures  act 
this  their  part,  and  enjoy  and  undergo  the  pleasures  and  the  pains 
allotted  them,  without  any  reflection.  But  one  would  think  it  im- 
possible, that  creatures  endued  with  reason  could  avoid  reflecting 
sometimes  upon  all  this;  reflecting,  if  not  from  whence  we  came,  yet, 
at  least,  whither  we  are  going;  and  what  the  mysterious  scheme,  in 

•  P.  107,  8tc.       t  See  Part  II.  Chap.  ».       t  P.  101. 


116  CottcluMun.  Pari  I. 

the  midst  of  wliich  we  find  ourselves,  will,  at  length,  come  out  and 
produce;  a  scheme  in  which  it  is  certain  we  are  highly  interested, 
and  in  which  we  may  be  interested  even  bey<md  conception.  For 
many  things  prove  it  palpably  absurd  to  conclude,  that  we  shall  cease 
to  be  at  death.  Particular  analogies  do  most  sensibly  shew  us,  that 
there  is  nothing  to  be  thought  strange,  in  our  being  to  exist  in  another 
state  of  life.  And  that  we  are  not  living  beings  affords  a  strong  prob- 
ability that  we  shall  eontimie  so,  unless  there  be  some  positive  ground, 
and  there  is  none  from  reason  or  analogy,  to  think  death  will  destroy 
us.  Were  a  persuasion  of  this  kind  ever  so  well  grounded,  there 
would  surely  be  little  reason  to  take  pleasure  in  it.  But  indeed  it 
can  have  no  other  ground,  than  some  such  imagination  as  that  of  our 
gross  bodies  being  ourselves;  which  is  contrary  to  experience.  Ex- 
perience too  most  clearly  shews  us  the  folly  of  concluding,  from  the 
body  and  the  living  agent  affecting  each  other  mutually,  that  the  dis- 
solution of  the  former  is  the  destruction  of  the  latter.  And  there  are 
remarkable  instances  of  their  not  affecting  each  other,  which  lead  us 
to  a  contrary  conclusion.  The  supposition  then,  which  in  all  reason 
we  are  to  go  upon,  is,  that  our  living  nature  will  continue  after  death. 
And  it  is  infinitely  unreasonable  to  form  an  institution  of  life,  or  to 
act,  upon  any  other  supposition.  Now  all  expectation  of  immortality, 
whether  more  or  less  ct>rtain,  opens  an  unbounded  prospect  to  our 
hopes  and  eur  fears;  since  we  see  the  constitution  of  nature  is  such 
as  to  admit  of  misery,  as  well  as  to  be  productive  of  happiness,  and 
experience  ourselves  to  partake  of  both  in  some  degree;  and  since  we 
cannot  but  know  what  higher  degrees  of  both  we  are  capable  of.  And 
there  is  no  presumption  against  believing  farther,  t1iat  our  future 
interest  depends  upon  our  present  behaviour;  for  we  see  our  present 
interest,  doth,  and  that  the  happiness  and  misery  which  are  naturally 
annexed  to  our  actions,  very  frequently  do  not  foUOw  till  long  after 
the  actions  are  dpne  to  which  they  are  respectively  annexed.  So  that 
were  speculation  to  leave  us  uncertain  whether  it  were  likely  that 
the  author  of  nature,  in  giving  happiness  and  misery  to  his  creatures, 
hath  regard  to  their  actions  or  not,  yet  since  we  find  by  experience 
that  he  hath  such  regard,  the  whole  sense  of  things  which  he  has  given 
us  plainly  leads  us,  at  once  and  without  any  elaborate  inquiries,  to 
think  that  it  may,  indeed  must,  be  to  good  actions  chiefly  that  he  hath 
annexed  happiness,  and  to  bad  actions  misery;  or  that  he  will,  upon 
the  whole,  reward  those  who  do  well,  and  punish  those  wlio  do  evil. 
To  confirm  this  from  the  constitution  of  the  world,  it  has  been  ob- 
served, that  some  sort  of  moral  government  is  necessarily  implied  in 
that  natural  government  of  God,  which  we  experience  ourselves 
under;  that  good  and  bad  actions  at  present  are  naturally  rewarded 
and  punislied,  not  only  as  beneficial  and  mischievous  to  society,  but 
also  as  virtuous  and  vicious;  and  that  there  is,  in  the  very  nature  of 
the  thing,  a  tendency  to  their  being  rewarded  and  punished  in  a  much 
higher  degree  than  they  are  at  present.  And  though  this  higher  de- 
i^ree  of  distributive  justice,  which  nature  thus  points  out  and  leads 
towards,  is  prevented  for  a  time  from  taking  place,  it  is  by  obstacles 
which  the  state  of  this  world  unhappily  throws  in  its  way,  and  which 
therefore  are  in  their  nature  temporary.  Now  as  these  things,  in  the 
ijatmal  conduct  of  Providence,  are  ybservable  on  the  side  of  virtue^ 


Part  I.  Conclusion.  11/ 

90  there  is  nothing  to  be  set  against  them  on  the  siile  of  vice.  A 
moral  scheme  of  government  then  is  visibly  established,  and  in  some 
degree  carried  into  executionj  and  this,  together  with  the  essential 
tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice  duly  considered,  naturally  raise  in  us 
an  apprehension,  that  it  will  be  carried  on  farther  towards  perfection 
in  a  future  state,  and  that  every  one  shall  there  receive  according  to 
his  deserts.  And  if  this  be  so,  then  our  Tture  and  general  interest, 
under  the  moral  government  of  God,  is  appointed  to  depend  upon 
our  behaviour,  notwithstanding  the  difficulty  which  this  may  occasion 
of  securing  it,  aiiA  the  danger  of  losing  it,  just  in  the  same  manner 
as  our  temporal  interest,  under  his  natural  government,  is  appointed 
to  depend  upon  our  behaviour,  notwithstanding  the  like  difficulty 
and  danger.  For,  from  our  original  constitution,  and  that  of  tha 
world  which  we  inhabit,  we  are  naturally  trusted  with  ourselves, 
with  our  own  conduct  and  our  own  interest.  And  from  the  same 
constitution  of  nature,  especially  joined  with  that  course  of  things 
which  is  owing  to  men,  we  have  temptations  to  be  unfaithful  in  this 
trust,  to  forfeit  this  interest,  to  neglect  it,  and  run  ourselves  into  mis- 
ery and  ruin.  From  thes.e  temptations  arise  the  difficulties  of  behav- 
ing so  as  to  secure  our  temporal  interest,  and  the  hazard  of  behaving 
so  as  to  miscarry  in  it.  There  is  therefore  nothing  incredible  in 
supposing,  there  may  be  the  like  difficulty  and  hazard  with  regard  to 
that  chief  and  final  good  which  religion  lays  before  us.  Indeed  the 
whole  account,  how  it  came  to  pass  that  we  were  placed  in  such  a 
condition  as  this,  must  be  beyond  our  comprehension;  but  it  is  in 
part  accounted  for  by  what  religion  teaches  us,  that  the  character  of 
virtue  and  piety  must  be  a  necessary  qualification  for  a  future  state 
of  security  and  happiness  under  the  moral  government  of  God,  in  like 
manner  as  some  certain  qualifications  or  other  are  necessary  for 
every  particular  condition  of  life  under  his  natural  government;  and 
that  the  present  state  was  intended  to  he  a  school  of  discipline  for 
improving  in  ourselves  that  character.  Now  this  intention  of  nature 
is  rendered  highly  credible  by  observing,  that  we  are  plainly  made 
lor  improvement  of  all  kinds;  that  it  is  a  general  appointment  of 
Providence  that  we  cultivate  practical  principles,  and  form  within 
ourselves  habits  of  action,  in  order  to  become  fit  for  what  we  were 
wholly  unfit  for  before;  that  in  particular,  childhood  and  youth  19 
naturally  appointed  to  be  a  state  of  discipline  for  mature  age;  and 
that  the  present  world  is  peculiarly  fitted  for  a  state  of  moral  disci- 
pline. And  whereas  objections  are  urged  against  the  whole  notion 
of  moral  government  and  a  probation  state,  from  the  opinion  of  neces° 
sity,  it  has  been  shewn,  that  God  has  given  us  the  evidence,  as  it 
were,  of  experience,  that  all  objections  against  religion  on  this  head 
are  vain  and  delusive.  He  has  also,  in  his  natural  government,  sug- 
gested an  answer  to  all  our  short  sighted  objections  against  the  equity 
and  goodiiess,  of  his  moral  government;  and  in  genera!  he  has  exem- 
plified to  us  the  latter  by  the  former. 

These  things,  which,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  are  matters  of  fact, 
ought,  in  all  common  sense,  to  awaken  mankind;  to  induce  them  to 
consider  in  earnest  their  condition,  and  what  they  have  to  do.  It  is 
absurd,  absurd  to  the  degree  of  being  ridiculous,  if  tha  subject  were 
not  of  so  serious  a  kind,  for  men  to  thiok  themselves,  secure  in  9. 


il8  Conclusion.  Part  I 

vicious  life,  or  even  in  that  immoral  thoughtlessness  which  far  the 
greatest  part  of  them  are  fallen  into.  And  the  credibility  of  religion, 
arising  from  experience  and  facts  here  considered,  is  fully  sufficient, 
in  reason,  to  engage  them  to  live  in  the  general  practice  of  all  virtue 
and  piety;  under  the  serious  apprehension,  though  it  should  be  mixed 
with  some  doubt,*  of  a  righteous  administration  established  in  nature, 
and  a  future  judgment  in  consequence  of  itj  especially  when  we  con- 
sider how  very  questionable  it  is,  whether  any  thing  at  all  can  be 
gained  by  vice;!  how  unquestionably  little,  as  well  as  precarious,  the 
pleasures  and  profits  of  it  are  at  the  best;  and  how  soon  they  must 
be  parted  with  at  the  longest.  For,  in  the  deliberations  of  reason, 
concerning  what  we  are  to  pursue  and  what  to  avoid,  as  temptatioas 
to  any  thing  from  mere  passion,  are  supposed  out  of  the  case — so 
inducements  to  vice,  from  cool  expectations  of  pleasure  and  interest 
so  small  and  uncertain  and  short,  are  really  so  insignificant,  as,  h 
the  view  of  reason,  to  be  almost  nothing  in  themselves;  and  in  com- 
parison with  the  importance  of  religion,  they  quite  disappear  and  are 
lost.  Mere  passion  indeed  may  be  alleged,  though  not  as  a  rea- 
son, yet  as  an  excuse,  for  a  vicious  course  of  life.  And  how  sorry  an 
excuse  it  is  will  be  manifest  by  observing,  that  we  are  placed  in  a 
condition,  in  whicl^we  are  unavoidably  inured  to  govern  our  passions, 
by  being  necessitated  to  govern  them;  and  to  lay  ourselves  under  the 
same  kind  of  restraints,  and  as  great  ones  too,  from  temporal  re- 
gards, as  virtue  and  piety  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  require. 
The  plea  of  ungovernable  passion  then,  on  the  side  of  vice,  is  the 
poorest  of  all  things;  for  it  is  no  reason,  and  but  a  poor  excuse.  But 
the  proper  motives  to  religion  are  the  proper  proofs  of  it,  from  our 
moral  nature,  from  the  presages  of  conscience,  and  our  natural  ap- 
prehension of  God  under  the  character  of  a  righteoi^s  governor  and 
judge;  a  nature  and  conscience  and  apprehension  given  us  by  him; 
and  from  the  confirmation  of  the  dictates  of  reason,  by  life  and  im- 
mortality brought  to  light  by  the  Gospel;  and  the  wrath  of  God  re- 
vealed from  heaven,  against  all  ungodliness,  and  unrighteousness  of 
men. 

♦  Part  11.  Chap.  Ti.        t  P='ge  64,  65. 


THE 

ANALOGY  OF  RELIGION 

TO  THE 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  OF  NATURE. 


PART  II. 

OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  Importance  of  Christianity. 

SOME  persons,  upon  pretence  of  the  sufficiency  of  the  light  of  na- 
ture, avowedly  reject  all  revelation,  as  in  its  very  notion  incredible, 
and  what  must  be  fictitious.  And  indeed  it  is  certain  no  revelation 
would  have  been  given,  had  the  light  of  nature  been  sufficient  in 
such  a  sense  as  to  render  one  not  wanting  and  useless.  But  no  man . 
in  seriousness  and  simplicity  of  mind,  can  possibly  think  it  so,  who 
considers  the  state  of  religion  in  the  heathen  world,  before  revela- 
tion, and  its  present  state  in  those  places  which  have  borrowed  no 
light  from  it;  particularly  the  doubtfulness  of  some  of  the  greatest 
men  concerning  things  of  the  utmost  importance,  as  well  as  the  nat- 
ural inattention  and  ignorance  of  mankind  in  general.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say  who  would  have  been  able  to  have  reasoned  out  that 
whole  system,  which  we  call  natural  religion,  in  its  genuine  simplici- 
ty, clear  of  superstition;  but  there  is  certainly  no  ground  to  affirm 
that  the  generality  could.  If  they  could,  there  is  no  sort  of  proba- 
bility that  they  would.  Admitting  there  were,  they  would  highly 
want  a  standing  admonition,  to  remind  them  of  it,  and  inculcate  it 
upon  them.  And  farther  still,  were  they  as  much  disposed  to  attend 
to  religion  as  the  better  sort  of  men  are,  yet  even  upon  this  supposi- 
tion there  would  be  various  occasions  for  supernatural  instruction 
and  assistance,  and  the  greatest  advantages  might  be  afforded  by 
them.  So  that  to  say,  revelation  is  a  thing  superfluous,  what  there 
was  no  need  of,  and  what  can  be  of  no  service,  is,  I  think,  to  talk 
quite  wildly  and  at  random.  Nor  would  it  be  more  extravagant  to 
affirm,  that  mankind  is  so  entirely  at  ease  in  the  present  state,  and 
life  so  completely  happy,  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose  our 
condition  capable  of  being  in  any  respect  bett«". 


120  Of  the  Importance  Part  II. 

There  are  otFicr  persons,  not  to  be  ranked  with  these,  who  seem  to 
be  getting  into  a  way  of  neglecting,  and,  as  it  were,  overlooking  rev- 
elation as  of  small  importance,  provided  natural  religion  be  kept  too. 
"With  little  regard  either  to  the  evidence  of  the  former,  or  to  the  ob- 
jections against  it,  and  even  upon  supposition  of  its  truth,  "  the  only 
clesign  of  it,"  say  they,  "  must  be  to  establish  a  belief  of  the  moral 
system  of  nature,  and  to  enforce  the  practice  of  natural  piety  and 
virtue.  The  belief  and  practice  of  these  things  were,  perhaps,  much 
promoted  by  the  first  publication  of  Christianity;  but  whether  they 
are  believed  and  practised,  upon  the  evidence  and  motives  of  nature 
or  revelation,  is  no  great  matter."*  This  way  of  considering  reve- 
Jation,  though  it  is  not  the  same  with  the  former,  yet  borders  nearly 
upon  it,  and  very  much,  at  length,  runs  up  into  it,  and  requires  to  be 
particularly  considered,  with  regard  to  the  persons  who  seem  to  be 
getting  into  this  way.  The  consideration  of  it  will  likewise  farther 
shew  the  extravagance  of  the  former  opinion,  and  the  truth  of  the 
observations  in  answer  to  it,  just  mentioned.  And  an  inquiry  into 
the  importance  of  Christianity,  cannot  be  an  improper  introduction 
to  a  treatise  concerning  the  credibility  of  it. 

Now  if  God  has  given  a  revelation  to  m  nkind,  and  commanded 
those  things  which  are  commanded  in  Christianity,  it  is  evident,  at 
first  sight,  that  it  cannot  in  anv  wise  be  an  indifferent  matter,  wheth- 
er we  obey  or  disobey  those  commands,  unless  we  are  certainly  as- 
sured that  we  know  all  the  reasons  for  them,  and  that  all  those  rea- 
sons are  now  ceased,  with  regard  to  mankind  in  general,  or  to  our- 
selves in  particular.  And  it  is  absolutely  impossible  w?  can  be  as- 
sured of  this.  For  our  ignorance  of  these  reasons  proves  nothing  in 
the  case,  since  the  whole  analogy  of  nature  shews,  what  is  indeed  in 
itself  evident,  that  there  may  be  infinite  reasons  for  things,  with 
which  we  are  not  acquainted. 

But  the  importance  of  Christianity  will  more  distinctly  appear, 
by  considering  it  more  distinctly.  First,  as  a  republication  and  ex» 
ternal  institution  of  natural  or  essential  religion,  adapted  to  the 
present  circumstances  of  mankind,  and  intended  to  promote  natural 
piety  and  virtue:  and,  secondly,  as  containing  an  account  of  a  dis- 
pensation of  things,  not  discoverable  by  reason,  in  consequence  of 
which  several  distinct  precepts  are  enjoined  us.  For  tiiough  natural 
religion  is  the  foundation  and  principal  part  of  Christianity,  it  is  not 
in  any  sense  the  whole  of  it. 

I.  Christianity  is  a  republication  of  natural  religion.  It  instructs 
mankind  in  the  moral  system  of  the  world;  that  it  is  the  work  of  an 
infinitely  perfect  Being,  and  under  his  government;  that  virtue  ia 
his  law;  and  that  he  will  finally  judge  mankind  ia  righteousness,  and 
render  to  all  according  to  their  works,  in  a  future  state.  And, 
which  is  very  material,  it  teaches  natural  religion  in  its  genuine  sim- 
plicity, free  from  those  superstitions  with  which  it  was  totally  cor- 
rupted, and  under  which  it  was  in  a  manner  lost. 

*  Invenis  multos— — propterea  nolle  fieri  Christianos,  quia  quasi  sufficiunt  sibi  de  bo- 
njvitnsua.  Bene  vivere  opus  est,  ait.  Quid  miiii  prtecepturus  est  Christus?  Utbere 
vivam?  Jam  bene  vivo.  Quid  mihi  necessai-ius  est  Chrislusf  Nullum  homicidium, 
nullum  furtura,  nuilam  rapinam  fucio,  res  alienas  non  concupisco,  nullo  adulterio  con- 
tnniinor.  Nam  inveniatur  in  vita  mea  al'quid  quod  reprohendatur,  et  qui  reprehen- 
derJt  facint  ChnGttaaurr*.  '  Acs.  iw  Psit.  lijrsi^ 


Chap.  I.  of  Chriatianily.  IS  I 

Revelation  is  farther  an  authoritative  publication  of  natural  reli- 
gion, and  so  affords  the  evidence  of  testimony  for  the  truth  of  it. 
Indeed  the  mii-acles  and  prophecies  recorded  in  Scripture  were  in- 
tended to  prove  a  particular  dispensation  of  Providence,  the  redemp- 
tion of  the  world  by  the  Messiah;  but  this  does  not  hinder  but  that 
they  may  also  prove  God's  general  providence  over  the  world,  as  our 
moral  governor  and  judge.  And  they  evidently  do  prove  it,  because 
this  character  of  the  author  of  nature  is  necessarily  connected  with 
and  implied  in  that  particular  revealed  dispensation  of  things;  it  is 
likewise  continually  taught  expressly,  and  insisted  upon,  by  those 
persons  who  wrought  the  miracles  and  delivered  the  prophecies.  So 
that  iiideed  natural  religion  seems  a^  much  proved  by  the  Scripture 
revelation,  as  it  would  have  been  had  the  design  of  revelation  been 
nothing  el&e  (lian  to  prove  it. 

But  it  may  possibly  be  disputed,  how  far  miracles  can  prove  natu- 
ral religion,  and  notable  objections  may  be  urged  against  this  proof 
of  it,  considered  as  a  matter  of  speculation;  but  considered  as  a 
practical  thing,  there  can  be  none.  For  suppose  a  person  to  teach 
natural  religion  to  a  nation,  who  had  lived  in  total  ignorance  or  forget- 
fulness  of  it,  and  to  declare  he  was  commissioned  by  God  so  to  do- 
suppose  him,  in  proof  of  his  commission,  to  foretel  things  future 
which  no  human  foresight  could  have  guessed  at,  to  divide  the  sea 
with  a  word,  feed  great  multitudes  with  bread  from  heaven,  cure  all 
manner  of  diseases,  and  raise  the  dead,  even  himself,  to  life — 
would  not  this  give  additional  credibility  to  his  teaching,  a  credibili- 
ty beyond  what  that  of  a  common  man  would  have,  and  be  an  author- 
itative publication  of  the  law  of  nature,  i.  e.  a  new  proof  of  it.**  It 
would  lie  a  practical  one,  of  the  strongest  kind,  perhaps,  which  hu- 
man creatures  are  capable  of  having  given  them.  The  Law  of  Mo- 
ses then,  and  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  are  authoritative  publications  of 
the  religion  of  nature;  they  aSbrd  a  proof  of  God's  general  provi- 
dence, as  moral  governor  of  the  world,  as  well  as  of  his  particular 
dispensations  of  providenc*  towards  sinful  creatures,  revealed  in 
the  Law  and  the  Gospel.  As  they  are  the  only  evidence  of  the  lat- 
ter, so  they  are  an  additional  evidence  of  the  former. 

To  shew  this  further,  let  us  suppoge  a  man  of  the  greatest  and 
most  improved  capacity,  who  had  never  heard  of  revelation,  convin- 
ced upon  the  whole,  notwithstanding  the  disorders  of  the  world, 
that  it  was  under  the  direction  and  moral  government  of  an  infinite- 
ly perfect  Being,  but  ready  to  question  whether  he  were  not  got  be- 
yond the  jreach  of  his  faculties — suppose  him  brought,  by  this  suspi- 
cion, inte  great  danger  of  being  carried  away  by  the  universal  bad 
example  of  almost  every  one  around  him,  who  appeared  to  have  no 
sense,  no  practical  sense  at  least,  of  these  things— -and  this,  perhaps, 
would  be  as  advantageous  a  situation  with  regard  to  religion,  as  na- 
ture alone  ever  placed  any  man  in.  What  a  confirmation  now  must 
it  be  to  such  a  person,  all  at  once  to  find  that  this  moral  system  of 
things  was  revealed  to  mankind,  in  the  name  of  that  infinite  Being, 
whom  he  had  from  principles  of  reason  believed  in;  and  that  the 
publishers  of  the  revelation  proved  th^ir  commission  from  him,  by 
making  it  appear,  that  he  had  entrusted  thera  with  a  powfr  of  sus- 
pending and  changing  the  general  laws  of  nature. 
Q 


1£2  The  Importance  Part  IL 

Nor  must  it  by  any  means  be  omitted,  for  it  is  a  thing  of  the  ut- 
most importance,  that  life  and  immortality  are  eminently  brought  to 
light  by  the  Gospel.  The  great  doctrines  of  a  future  state,  the  danger 
of  a  course  of  wickedness,  and  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  are  not  only 
confirmed  in  the  Gospel,  but  are  taught,  especially  the  last  is,  with  a 
degree  of  light  to  which  that  of  nature  is  but  darkness. 

Farther:  as  Christianity  served  these  ends  an<i  purposes  when  it 
"was  first  published,  by  the  miraculous  publication  itself,  so  it  was  in- 
tended to  serve  the  same  purposes  in  future  ages,  by  means  of  the 
settlement  of  a  visible  church;  of  a  society  distinguished  from  com- 
mon ones,  and  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  by  peculiar  religious  in- 
stitutions, by  an  instituted  method  of  instruction,  and  an  instituted 
form  of  external  religion.  Miraculous  powers  were  given  to  the 
first  preachers  of  Christianity,  in  order  to  their  introducing  it  into 
the  world;  a  visible  church  was  established  in  order  to  continue  it, 
and  carry  it  on  successively  throughout  all  ages.  Had  Moses  and 
the  prophets,  Chiist  and  his  apostles,  only  taught,  and  by  miracles 
proved,  religion  to  their  cotemporaries,  the  benefits  of  their  instruc- 
tions would  have  reached  but  to  a  small  part  of  mankind.  Chris- 
tianity must  have  been,  in  a  great  degree,  sunk  and  forgot  in  a  very 
few  ages.  To  prevent  this,  appears  to  have  been  one  reason  why  a 
visible  church  was  instituted;  to  be  like  a  city  upon  a  hill,  a  stan- 
ding memorial  to  the  world  of  the  duty  which  we  owe  our  Maker; 
to  call  men  continually,  both  by  example  and  instruction,  to  attend 
to  it,  and  by  the  form  of  religion  ever  before  their  eyes,  remind 
them  of  the  reality;  to  be  the  repository  of  the  oracles  of  God;  to 
hold  up  the  light  of  revelation  in  aid  to  that  of  nature,  and  propa- 
gate it  throughout  all  generations  to  the  end  of  the  world — the  light 
of  revelation  considered  here  in  no  other  view  than  as  designed  to 
etiforce  natural  religion.  And  in  proportion  as  Christianity  is  pro- 
fessed and  taught  in  the  world,  religion,  natural  or  essential  religion, 
is  thus  distinctly  and  advantageously  laid  before  mankind,  and 
brought  again  and  again  to  their  thoughts,  as  a  matter  of  infinite  im- 
portance. A  visible  church  has  also  a  farther  tendency  to  promote 
natural  religion,  as  being  an  instituted  method  of  education,  origin- 
ally intended  to  be  of  more  peculiar  advantage  to  those  who  would 
conform  to  it.  For  one  end  of  the  institution  was,  that  by  admoni- 
tion and  reproof,  as  well  as  instruction,  by  a  general  regular  disci- 
pline, and  public  exercises  of  religion,  the  body  of  Christ,  as  the 
Scripture  speaks,  should  be  edified,  i.  e.  trained  up  in  piety  and  vir- 
tue, for  a  higher  and  better  state.  This  settlement  then  appearing 
thus  beneficial,  tending  in  the  nature  of  tlie  thing  to  answer,  and  in 
some  degree  actually  answering,  those  ends,  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that  the  very  notion  of  it  implies  positive  institutions;  for  the  visi- 
bility of  the  church  consists  in  theu*.  Take  away  every  thing  of 
this  kind,  and  you  lose  the  very  notion  itself.  So  that  if  the  things 
now  mentioned  are  advantages,  the  reason  and  importance  of  posi- 
tive institutions  in  general  is  most  obvious,  since  without  them  these 
advantages  could  not  be  secured  to  the  world.  And  it  is  mere  idle 
wantonness,  to  insist  upon  knowing  the  reasons  why  such  particular 
ones  were  fixed  upon,  rather  than  others. 


Chap.  I.  of  Christianittf.  123 

The  benefit  arising  from  this  supernatural  assistance  which  Chris- 
tianity affords  to  natural  religion,  is  what  some  persons  are  rery  slow 
in  apprehending.  And  yet  it  is  a  thing  distinct  in  itself,  and  a  very 
plain  obvious  one.  For  will  any  in  good  earnest  really  say,  that  the 
bulk  of  mankind  in  the  heathen  world  were  in  as  advantageous  a  sit- 
uation with  regard  to  natural  religion  as  they  are  now  amongst  us; 
that  it  was  laid  before  them,  and  enforced  upon  them,  in  a  manner 
as  distinst,  and  as  much  tending  to  influence  their  practice? 

The  objections  against  all  this,  from  the  perversion  of  Christian!' 
ty,  and  from  the  supposition  of  its  having  had  but  little  good  influ- 
ence, however  innocently  they  may  be  proposed,  yet  cannot  be  in- 
sisted upon  as  conclusive  upon  any  principles  but  such  as  lead  to 
downright  atheism;  because  the  manifestation  of  the  law  of  nature 
by  reason,  which  upon  all  the  principles  of  theism  must  have  been 
from  God,  has  been  perverted  and  rendered  ineffectual  in  the  same 
Tnanner.  It  may  indeed,  I  think  truly  be  said,  that  the  good  effects 
of  Christianity  have  not  been  small;  nor  its  supposed  ill  effects  sny 
eflfects  at  ail  of  it,  properly  speaking.  Perhaps  too  the  things  them- 
selves done  have  been  aggravated;  and  if  not,  Christianity  hath  been 
often  only  a  pretence;  and  the  same  evils  in  the  main  would  have 
been  done  upon  some  other  pretence.  However,  great  and  shocking 
as  the  corruptions  and  abuses  of  it  have  really  been,  they  cannot  be 
insisted  upon  as  arguments  against  it  upon  principles  of  theism. 
For  one  cannot  proceed  one  step  in  reasoning  upon  natural  religion, 
any  more  than  upon  Christianity,  without  laying  it  down  as  a  first 
principle,  that  the  dispensations  of  Providence  are  not  to  be  judged 
of  by  their  perversions,  but  by  their  genuine  tendencies;  not  by 
what  they  do  actually  seem  to  effect,  but  by  what  they  would  effect 
if  mankind  did  their  part,  that  part  which  is  justly  put  and  left  upon 
them.  It  is  altogether  as  much  the  language  of  one  as  of  the  other, 
he  that  is  unjust  let  him  be  unjust  still;  and  he  that  is  holy  let  him  be 
holy  still.*  The  light  of  reason  does  not,  any  more  than  that  of  rev- 
elation, force  men  to  submit  to  its  authority;  both  admonish  them  of 
what  they  ought  to  do  and  avoid,  together  with  the  consequences  of 
each,  and  after  this  leave  them  at  full  liberty  to  act  just  as  they 
please,  till  the  appointed  time  of  judgment.  Every  moment's  expe- 
rience shews,  that  this  is  God's  general  rule  of  government. 

To  return  then:  Christianity  being  a  promulgation  of  the  law  of 
nature,  being  moreover  an  authoritative  promulgation  of  it,  with  new 
light,  and  other  circumstances  of  peculiar  advantage  adapted  to  the 
wants  of  mankind — these  things  fully  shew  its  importance.  And  it 
is  to  be  observed  farther,  that  as  the  nature  of  the  case  requires,  so 
all  Christians  are  commanded  to  contribute,  by  their  profession  of 
Christianity,  to  preserve  it  in  the  world,  and  render  it  such  a  pro- 
mulgation and  enforcement  of  religion.  For  it  is  the  very  scheme  of 
the  gospel,  that  each  Christian  should,  in  his  degree,  contribute  to- 
wards continuing  and  carrying  it  on;  all  by  uniting  in  the  public 
profession  and  external  practice  of  Christianity;  some  by  instruc- 
ting, by  having  the  oversight,  and  taking  care  of  this  religious  com- 
munity, the  church  of  God.     Now  this  farther  shews  the  importance 

*  liev.  xxii.  11. 


iSH  The  impurianct  pARxtl. 

of  Christianity,  and,  which  is  what  I  chiefly  intend,  its  importance 
in  a  practical  sense;  or  the  high  obligations  we  are  under  to  take  it 
into  our  most  serious  consideration,  and  the  danger  there  must  ne- 
cessarily be,  not  only  in  treating  it  despitefully,  which  1  am  not  now 
speaking  of,  but  in  disregarding  and  neglecting  it.  For  this  is  neg- 
lecting to  do  what  is  expressly  enjoined  us,  for  continuing  those  ben- 
efits to  the  world,  and  transmitting  them  down  to  future  times;  and 
all  this  holds,  even  though  the  only  thing  to  be  considered  in  Chris- 
tianity were  its  subserviency  to  natural  religion.     But, 

II.  Christianity  is  to  be  considered  in  a  further  view,  as  contain- 
ing an  account  of  a  dispensation  of  things  not  at  all  discoverable  hy 
reason,  in  consequence  of  which  several  distinct  precepts  are  enjoin- 
ed us.  Christianity  is  not  only  an  external  institution  of  natural  re- 
ligion, and  a  new  promulgation  of  God's  general  providence,  as 
righteous  governor  and  judge  of  the  world,  but  it  contains  also  a  rev- 
elation of  a  particular  dispensation  of  providence,  carrying  on  by 
his  Son  and  Spirit,  for  the  recovery  and  salvation  of  mankind,  who 
are  represented  in  Scripture  to  be  in  a  state  of  ruin.  And  in  con- 
sequence of  this  revelation  being  made,  we  are  commanded  to  be  bap- 
tized, not  only  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  but  also  of  the  Son,  and 
of  the  Haly  Ghost;  and  other  obligations  of  duty,  unknown  before, 
to  the  San  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  revealed.  Now  the  importance 
of  these  duties  may  be  judged  of,  by  observing  that  they  arise,  not 
from  positive  command  merely,  but  also  from  the  offices  which  ap- 
pear from  Scripture,  to  belong  to  those  divine  persons  in  the  Gospel 
dispensation;  or  from  the  relations  which  we  are  there  informed 
they  stand  into  us.  By  reason  is  revealed  the  relation  which  God 
the  Father  stands  in  to  us.  Hence  arises  the  obligation  of  duty 
which  we  are  under  to  him.  In  Scripture  are  revealed  the  relations 
which  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Spirit  stand  in  to  us.  Hence  arise  the 
obligations  of  duty  which  we  are  under  to  tliem.  'i'he  truth  of  the 
case,  as  one  may  speak,  in  each  of  these  three  respects  beingadmit- 
ted;  that  God  is  the  j^overnor  of  the  world,  upon  the  evidence  of  rea- 
son— that  Christ  is  the  mediator  between  God  and  n)an,  and  the  Ho- 
ly Ghost  our  guide  and  sanctiGcr,  upon  the  evidence  of  revelation; 
the  truth  of  the  case,  I  say,  in  each  of  these  respects  being  admit- 
ted, it  is  no  more  a  question,  why  it  should  be  commanded  that  we 
be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  than  that 
we  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Father.  This  matter  seems  to  re- 
<juire  to  be  more  fully  stated.* 

Let  it  he  reuiembered  then  that  religion  comes  under  the  twofold 
consideration  of  internal  and  external;  for  the  latter  is  as  real  a  part 
of  religion,  of  true  religion,  as  the  former.  Now  when  religion  is 
considered  under  the  first  notion,  as  an  inward  principle,  to  be  ex- 
erted in  such  and  such  inward  acts  of  the  mind  and  heart,  the  es- 
sence of  natural  religion  may  be  said  to  consist  in  religious  regards 
to  God  the  Father  Mmighty;  and  the  essence  of  revealed  religion, 
as  distinguished  from  natural,  to  consist  in  religious  regards  to  the 
Son  3iud  to  the  Holy  Ghost.     And  the  obligation  we  are  under,  of 

•  See,  The  Nature,  Obligation,  and  Efficacy,  of  the  Cliristiai)  Sacraments,  Secant} 
Colliticr  of  revealed  Rerigioii,  as  tlifyo  quoted. 


Chap.  I.  of  Christianity.  135 

paying  these  religious  regards  to  each  of  these  divine  persons  re- 
spectively, arises  from  the  respective  relations  which  they  each 
stand  in  to  us.  How  these  relations  are  made  known,  whether  by  rea- 
son or  revelation,  makes  no  alteration  in  the  case;  because  the  duties 
arise  out  of  the  relations  themselves,  not  out  of  the  manner  in  which 
we  are  informed  of  them.  The  Son  and  Spirit  have  each  his  proper 
office,  in  that  great  dispensation  of  Providence,  the  redemption  of 
the  world;  the  one  our  mediator,  the  other  our  sanctifier.  Does  not 
then  the  duty  of  religious  regards  to  both  these  divine  persons  as 
immediately  arise,  to  the  view  of  reason,  out  of  the  very  nature  of 
these  offices  and  relations,  as  the  inward  good  will  and  kind  inten- 
tion, which  we  owe  to  our  fellow  creatures,  arises  out  of  the  com- 
mon relations  between  us  and  them?  But  it  will  be  asked,  "  what 
are  the  inward  religious  regards,  appearing  thus  obviously  due  to 
the  Son  and  Holy  Spirit,  as  arising,  not  merely  from  command  in 
Scripture,  but  from  the  very  nature  of  the  revealed  relations  which 
they  stand  in  to  us?  I  answer — the-religious  regards  of  reverence, 
honor,  love,  trust,  gratitude,  fear,  hope.  In  what  external  manner 
this  inward  worship  is  to  be  expressed,  is  a  matter  of  pure  revealed 
command,  as  perhaps  the  external  manner  in  which  God  the  Father 
is  to  be  worshipped  may  be  more  so  than  we  are  ready  to  think;  but 
the  worship,  the  internal  worship  itself,  to  the  Son  and  Holy  Ghost, 
is  no  farther  matter  of  pure  revealed  command,  than  as  the  relations 
they  stand  in  to  us  are  matter  of  pure  revelation;  for  tlie  relations 
being  known,  the  obligations  to  such  internal  worship  are  obligations 
of  reason,  arising  out  of  those  relations  themselves.  In  short,  the 
history  of  the  Gospel  as  immediately  shews  us  the  reason  of  these 
obligations,  as  it  shews  us  the  meaning  of  the  words,  Son  and  Holy 
Ghost. 

If  this  account  of  the  Christian  religion  be  just,  those  persons  who 
can  speak  lightly  of  it,  as  of  little  consequence,  provided  natural 
religion  be  kept  to,  plainly  forget  that  Giiristianity,  even  what  iS 
peculiarly  so  called,  as  distinguished  from  natural  religion,  has  yet 
somewhat  very  important,  even  of  a  moral  nature.  For  the  office  of 
our  Lord  being  made  known,  and  the  relation  he  stands  in  to  us, 
the  obligation  of  religious  regards  to  him,  is  plainly  moraL  as  much 
as  charity  to  mankind  is;  since  this  obligation  arises,  before  external 
command,  immediately  out  of  that  his  office  and  relation  itself. 
Those  persons  appear  to  forget,  that  revelation  is  to  be  considered 
as  informing  us  of  somewhat  new  in  the  state  of  mankind,  and  in 
the  government  of  the  world;  as  acquainting  us  with  some  relations 
we  stand  in,  which  could  not  otherwise  have  been  known.  And 
these  relations  being  real,  (though  before  revelation  we  could  be 
under  no  obligations  from  them,  yet  upon  their  being  revealed)  there 
is  no  reason  to  think,  but  that  neglect  of  behaving  suitably  to  them 
will  he  attended  with  the  same  kind  (if  consequences  under  God's 
government,  as  neglecting  to  behave  suitably  to  any  other  relations 
made  known  to  us  by  reason.  And  ignorance,  whether  unavoidable 
or  voluntary,  so  far  as  we  can  possibly  see,  will,  just  as  much,  and 
just  as  little,  excuse  in  one  case  as  in  the  other;  the  ignorance  being 
supposed  equally  unavoidable,  or  equally  voluntary,  in  both  cases. 


126  The  importance  Part  If, 

If  therefore  Christ  be  indeed  the  mediator  between  God  and  man. 
i.  e.  if  Christianity  be  true,  if  he  be  indeed  our  Lord,  our  Saviour, 
and  our  God — no  one  can  say  what  may  follow,  not  only  the  obstinate 
but  the  careless  disregard  to  him  In  those  high  relations.  Nay,  no 
one  can  say  what  may  follow  such  disregard,  even  in  the  way  of 
natural  consequence.  For,  as  the  natural  consequences  of  vice  in 
this  life  are  doubtless  to  be  considered  as  judicial  punishments  in- 
flicted by  God,  so  likewise,  for  ought  we  know,  the  judicial  punish- 
ments of  the  future  life  may  be,  in  a  like  way  or  a  like  sense,  the  nat- 
ural consequence  of  vice;*  of  men's  violating  or  disregarding  the 
relations,  which  God  has  placed  tlxera  in  here,  and  made  known  to 
them 

Agais:  if  mankind  are  corrupted  and  depraved  in  tlieir  moral 
character,  and  so  are  unfit  for  that  state  which  Christ  is  gone  to  pre- 
pare for  his  disciples;  and  if  the  assistance  of  God's  Spirit  be  neces- 
sary to  renew  their  nature,  in  the  degree  requisite  to  their  being 
qualified  for  that  state;  all  which  is  implied  in  the  express  though 
figurative  declaration.  Except  a  man  he  horn  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God;]  supposing  this,  is  it  possible  any 
serious  person  can  think  it  a  slight  matter,  whether  or  no  he  makes 
use  of  the  means  expressly  commanded  by  God  for  obtaining  this 
divine  assistance?  Especially  since  the  whole  analogy  of  n,ature 
shews,  that  we  are  not  to  expect  any  benefits  without  making  use  of 
the  appointed  means  for  obtaininig  or  enjoying  them.  Now  reason 
shews  us  nothing  of  the  particular  immediate  means  of  obtaining 
either  temporal  or  spiritual  benefits.  This  therefore  we  must  learn, 
either  from  experience  or  revelation.  And  experience  the  present 
case  does  net  admit  of. 

The  conclusion  from  all  this  evidently  is,  that  Christianity  being 
supposed  either  true  or  credible,  it  is  unspeakable  irreverence,  and 
really  the  most  presumptuous  rashness,  to  treat  it  as  a  light  matter. 
It  can  never  justly  be  esteemed  of  little  consequence,  till  it  be  posi- 
tively supposed  false.  Nor  do  I  know  a  higher  and  more  important 
obligation  which  we  are  under,  than  that  of  examining  most  seriously 
into  the  evidence  of  it,  supposing  its  credibility,  and  of  embracing  it, 
upon  supposition  of  its  truth. 

The  two  following  deductions  may  be  proper  to  be  added,  in  order 
to  illustrate  the  foregoing  observations,  and  to  prevent  their  being 
mistaken. 

First,  hence  we  may  clearly  see,  where  lies  tiie  distinction  be- 
tween what  is  positive  and  what  is  moral  in  religion.  Moral  precepts 
are  precepts  the  reason  of  which  we  see;  positive  precepts  are  pre- 
cepts the  reason  of  which  we  do  not  see.*  Moral  duties  arise  out  of 
the  nature  of  the  case  itself,  prior  to  external  command.  Positive 
duties  i\o   not  arise  out  of  the  nature  of  the  case,  but  from   external 

*  Chap.  V.        f  John  iii.  5. 

i  This  is  the  distinction  between  moral  antl  positive  precepts,  considered  respectively 
rts  such.  But  yet,  since  tlio  intter  have  somewhat  of  a  moral  nature,  we  may  see  the 
j-eason  of  them,  considered  in  this  view.  Moral  and  positive  ]>rccepts  are  in  some  rea- 
{iccts  alike,  in  other  respects  difTt  rent.  So  Hir  as  they  are  alike,  we  discern  the  rea- 
sons ofhoth;  so  far  as  they  are  differ. nit,  we  Uis'J^rn  the  realms  of  the  former,  hut  im)» 
■>fthe  latter 


Chap.  I.  of  Christiaitilij.  127 

command;  nor  would  thej  be  duties  at  all,  were  it  not  for  such  com- 
mand, received  from  him  whose  creatures  and  subjects  we  are.  But 
the  manner  in  which  the  nature  of  the  case  or  the  fact  of  the  relation 
is  made  known,  this  doth  not  denominate  any  duty  either  positive  or 
moral.  That  we  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  is  as  much  a 
positive  duty,  as  that  we  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Son,  because 
both  arise  equally  from  revealed  command;  though  the  relation  which 
we  stand  in  to  God  the  Father  is  made  known  to  us  by  reason,  the 
relation  we  stand  in  to  Christ  by  revelation  only.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  dispensation  of  the  Gospel  admitted,  gratitude  as  immediately 
becomes  due  to  Christ,  from  his  being  the  voluntary  minister  of  this 
dispensation,  as  it  is  due  to  God  the  Father,  from  his  being  the  foun- 
tain of  all  good;  though  the  first  is  made  known  to  us  by  revelation 
only,  the  second  by  reason.  Hence  also  we  may  see,  and,  for  dis- 
tinctness sake,  it  may  be  worth  mentioning,  that  positive  institutions 
come  under  a  twofold  consideration.  They  are  either  institutions 
founded  on  natural  religion,  as  baptism  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
though  this  has  also  a  particular  reference  to  the  Gospel  dispensa- 
tion, for  it  is  in  the  name  of  God,  as  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ;  or  they  are  external  institutions  founded  on  revealed  reli- 
gion, as  baptism  in  the  name  of  the  Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Secondly,  from  the  distinction  between  what  is  moral  and  what  i-* 
positive  in  religion,  appears  the  ground  of  that  peculiar  preference 
which  the  Scripture  teaches  us  to  be  due  to  the  former. 

The  reason  of  positive  institutions  in  general  is  very  ohvious- 
though  we  should  not  see  the  reason  why  such  particular  ones  are 
pitched  upon  rather  than  others.  Whoever  therefore,  instead  of 
cavilling  at  words,  will  attend  to  the  thing  itself,  may  clearly  see 
that  positive  institutions  in  geoeral,  as  distinguished  from  this  or  that, 
particular  one,  have  the  nature  of  moral  commands,  since  the  reasons 
of  them  appear.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  external  worship  of  God  is 
a  moral  duty,  though  no  particular  motle  of  it  be  so.  Care  then  is  to 
be  taken,  when  a  comparison  is  made  between  positive  and  moral 
duties,  that  they  be  compared  no  farther  than  as  they  are  different? 
no  farther  than  as  the  former  are  positive,  or  arise  out  of  mere  exter- 
nal command,  the  reasons  of  which  we  are  not  acquainted  with;  and 
as  the  latter  are  moral,  or  arise  out  of  the  apparent  reason  of  the  case, 
without  such  external  command.  Unless  this  caution  be  observed, 
we  shall  run  into  endless  confusion. 

Now,  this  being  premised,  suppose  two  standing  preaepts  enjoined 
by  the  same  authority;  that,  in  certain  conjunctures,  it  is  impossible 
to  obey  both;  that  the  former  is  moral,  i.  e.  a  precept  of  which  we  see 
the  reasons,  and  that  they  hold  in  the  particular  case  before  us;  but 
that  the  latter  is  positive,  i.  e.  a  precept  of  which  we  do  not  see  the 
reasons; — it  is  indisputable  that  our  obligations  are  to  obey  the  form- 
er; because  there  is  an  apparent  reason  for  this  preference,  and  none 
against  it.  Farther,  positive  institutions,  I  suppose  all  those  which 
Christianity  enjoins,  are  means  to  a  moral  end;  and  the  end  must  be 
acknowledged  more  excellent  than  the  means.  Nor  is  observance 
of  these  institutions  any  religious  obedience  at  all,  or  of  any  value, 
othorwise  than  as  it  proceeds  from  a  moral  principle.  This  seems 
to  be  the  strict  logical  way  of  stating  and  determining  this  matter; 


i28  The  importance  Part  If. 

but  will,  perhaps,  be  found  less  applicable  to  practice  than  may  be 
thought  at  first  sight. 

And  therefore,  in  a  more  practical  though  more  lax  way  of  consid- 
eration, and  taking  the  words,  moral  law  and  ■positive  institutions ^ 
in  the  popular  sense — I  add,  that  the  whole  moral  law  is  as  much 
matter  of  revealed  command,  as  positive  institutions  are;  for  the 
Scripture  enjoins  every  moral  virtue.  In  this  respect  then  they  are 
both  upon  a  level.  But  the  moral  law  is,  moreover,  written  upon 
our  hearts — interwoven  into  our  very  nature.  And  this  is  a  plain 
intimation  ofthex\uthor  of  it,  which  is  to  be  preferred,  when  they 
interfere. 

But  there  is  not  altogether  so  much  necessity  for  the  determination 
of  this  question  as  some  persons  seem  to  think.  Nor  are  we  left  to 
reason  alone  to  determine  it.  For.  first,  though  mankind  have,  in 
all  ages,  been  greatly  prone  to  place  their  religion  in  peculiar  posi- 
tive rites,  by  way  of  equivalent  for  obedience  to  moral  precepts — 
yet,  without  making  any  comparison  at  all  between  them,  and  con- 
sequently without  determining  which  is  to  have  the  preference,  the 
nature  of  the  thing  abundantly  shews  all  notions  of  that  kind  to  be 
utterly  subversive  of  true  religion;  as  they  are,  moreover,  contrary 
to  the  who!*  general  tenor  of  Scripture,  and  likewise  to  the  most 
express  particular  declarations  of  it,  that  nothing  can  render  us  ac- 
cepted of  God  without  moral  virtue.  Secondly,  upon  the  occasion  i 
of  mentioning  together  positive  and  moral  duties,  the  Scripture  al-  ,- 
ways  puts  the  stress  of  religion  upon  the  latter,  and  never  upon  the 
former;  which,  though  no  sort  of  allowance  to  neglect  the  former, 
when  they  do  not  interfere  with  the  latter,  yet  is  a  plain  intimation  -^ 
that  when  they  do,  the  latter  are  to  be  preferred.  And  farther,  as  .,* 
mankind  are  for  placing  the  stress  of  their  religion  any  where  rather  f^ 
than  upon  virtue — lest  both  the  reason  of  the  thing,  and  the  general 
spirit  of  Christianity,  appearing  in  the  intimation  now  mentioned, 
should  be  ineffectual  against  this  prevalent  folly— our  Lord  himself, 
from  whose  command  alone  the  obligation  of  positive  institions 
arises,  has  taken  occasion  to  make  the  comparison  between  them  aad 
moral  precepts,  when  the  Pharisees  censured  him,  for  eating  with 
publicans  and  sinners;  and  also  when  they  censured  his  disciples  for 
plucking  the  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Upon  this  comparison, 
he  ha^  determined  expressly,  and  in  form,  which  shall  have  the  pre- 
ference when  they  interfere.  And  by  delivering  his  authoritative 
determination  in  a  proverbial  manner  of  expression,  he  has  made  it 
general:  /  will  have  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice.*  The  propriety  of 
tlie  word  proverbial  is  not  the  thing  insisted  upon,  though  I  think  Hie 
manner  of  speaking  is  to  be  called  so.  But  that  the  manner  of 
spetiking  very  remarkably  renders  the  determination  general,  is 
surely  indisputable.  For,  had  it,  in  the  latter  case,  been  said  only, 
that  God  preferred  mercy  to  the  rigid  observance  of  the  Sabbath — 
even  then,  by  parity  of  reason,  most  justly  might  we  have  argued, 
that  he  preferred  mercy  likewise  to  the  observance  of  other  ritual 
institutions,  and  in  general,  moral  duties  to  positive  ones.  And  thus 
the  determination  would  have  been  general,  though  its  being  so  were 

•Matth, -is  15,  and  xii  7. 


ChaP,  I.  of  Christianity.  129 

inferred  and  not  expressed.  But  as  the  passage  really  stands  in  the 
Gospel,  it  is  much  stronger.  For  the  sense,  and  the  very  literal 
words  of  our  Lord's  answer,  are  as  applicable  to  any  other  instance 
of  a  comparison,  between  positive  and  moral  duties,  as  to  this  upon 
which  they  were  spoken. 

And  if,  in  case  of  competition,  mercy  is  to  be  preferred  to  positive 
institutions,  it  will  scarce  be  thought  that  justice  is  to  give  place  to 
them.  It  is  remarkable  too,  that,  as  the  words  are  a  quotation  from 
the  Old  Testament,  they  are  introduced,  on  both  the  forementioned 
occasions,  with  a  declaration  that  the  Pharisees  did  not  understand 
the  meaning  of  them.  This,  I  say  is  very  remarkable.  For,  since  it 
is  scarce  possible  for  the  most  ignorant  person  not  to  understand  the 
literal  sense  of  the  passage  in  the  prophet,*  and  since  understanding 
the  literal  sense  would  not  have  prevented  their  condemning  the 
guiltless,^  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  the  thing  which  our  Lord 
really  intended  in  that  declaration  was,  that  the  Pharisees  had  not 
learnt  from  it,  as  they  might,  wherein  the  general  spirit  of  religion 
consists;  that  it  consists  in  moral  piety  and  virtue,  as  distinguished 
from  forms  and  ritual  observances.  However,  it  is  certain  we  may 
learn  this  from  his  divine  application  of  the  passage  in  the  Gospel. 

But,  as  it  is  one  of  the  peculiar  weaknesses  of  human  nature,  when, 
upon  a  comparison  of  two  things,  one  is  found  to  be  of  greater  impor- 
tance than  the  other,  to  consider  this  other  as  of  scarce  any  impor- 
tance at  all — it  is  highly  necessary  that  we  remind  ourselves  how 
great  presumption  it  is,  to  make  light  of  any  institutions  of  divine 
appointment;  that  our  obligations  to  obey  all  God's  commands  what- 
ever are  absolute  and  indispensable;  and  that  commands  merely 
positive,  admitted  to  be  from  him,  lay  us  under  a  moral  obligation  to 
obey  them — an  obligation  moral  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper 
sense. 

To  these  things  I  cannot  forbear  adding,  that  the  account  now 
given  of  Christianity  most  strongly  shews  and  enforces  upon  us  the 
obligation  of  searching  the  Scriptures,  in  order  to  see  what  the 
scheme  of  revelation  really  is,  instead  of  determining  beforehand 
from  reason  what  the  scheme  of  it  must  be.:f  Indeed  if  in  revela- 
tion  there  be  found  any  passages,  the  seeming  meaning  of  which  is 
contrary  to  natural  religion,  we  may  most  certainly  conclude  such 
seeming  meaning  not  to  be  the  real  one.  But  it  is  not  any  degree 
of  a  presumption  against  an  interpretation  of  Scripture,  that  such 
interpretation  contains  a  doctrine  which  the  light  of  nature  cannot 
discover,§  or  a  precept  which  the  law  of  nature  does  not  oblige  to. 

•  Hos.  vL       t  See  Matth.  xii.  7.       ^  See  Chap.  iTr       §  Page  130, 191, 
R 


ISO  Of  the  supposed  Fre'sumptioti  Part  II. 


CHAP.  II. 


Of  (he  supposed  Presumption  against  a  Revelation,  considered  as 

Miraculous. 

HAVING  shewn  the  importance  of  the  Christian  revelation,  and 
the  obligations  which  we  are  under  seriously  to  attend  to  it,  upon 
supposition  of  its  truth,  or  its  credibility— the  next  thing  in  order 
is,  to  consider  the  supposed  presumptions  against  revelation  in  gen- 
eral, which  shall  be  the  subject  of  this  chapter;  and  the  objections 
against  the  Christian  in  particular,  which  shall  be  the  subject  of  some 
following  ones.*  For  it  seems  the  most  natural  method  to  remove 
the  prejudices  against  Christianity,  before  we  proceed  to  the  consid- 
eration of  the  positive  evidence  for  it,  and  the  objections  against  that 
evidence.! 

It  is,  I  think,  commonly  supposed,  that  there  is  some  peculiar  pre- 
sumption, from  the  analogy  of  nature,  against  the  Christian  scheme 
of  things,  at  least  against  miracles;  so  as  that  stronger  evidence  is 
necessary  to  prove  the  truth  and  reality  of  them  than  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  convince  us  of  other  events,  or  matters  of  fact.  Indeed  the 
consideration  of  this  supposed  presumption  cannot  but  be  thought 
yery  insignificant,  by  many  persons;  yet,  as  it  belongs  to  the  subject 
of  this  treatise,  so  it  may  tend  to  open  the  mind,  and  remove  some 
prejudices,  however  needless  the  consideration  of  it  be  upon  its  own 
account. 

I.  I  find  no  appearance  of  a  presumption,  from  the  analogy  of  na- 
ture, against  the  general  scheme  of  Christianity,  that  God  created 
and  invisibly  governs  the  world  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  by  him  also 
will  hereafter  judge  it  in  righteousness,  i.  e.  render  to  every  one  ac- 
cording to  his  works;  and  that  good  men  are  under  the  secret  in- 
fluence of  his  Spirit.  Whether  these  things  are  or  are  not  to  be  cal- 
led miraculous,  is  perhaps  only  a  question  about  words,  or  however, 
is  of  no  moment  in  the  case.  If  the  analogy  of  nature  raises  any 
presumption  against  this  general  scheme  of  Christianity,  it  must  be 
either  because  it  is  not  discoverable  by  reason  or  exepience,  or  else 
because  it  is  unlike  that  course  of  nature  which  is.  But  analogy  rai- 
ses no  presumption  against  the  truth  of  tliis  scheme,  upon  either  of 
these  accounts. 

First,  there  is  no  presumption,  from  analogy,  against  the  truth  of 
it  upon  account  of  its  not  being  discoverable  by  reason  or  experience. 
For  suppose  one  who  never  heard  of  revelation,  of  the  most  impro- 
ved understanding,  and  acquainted  with  our  whole  system  of  natural 
philosophy  and  natural  religion — such  an  one  could  not  but  be  sensi- 

•  Cha^.  iii.  iv.  v.  vi.        j-  Chap.  vii. 


Chap.  II.  against  Miracles.  151 

ble  that  it  was  but  a  very  small  part  of  the  natural  and  moral  system 
of  the  universe,  which  he  was  acquainted  with.  He  could  not  but 
be  sensible  that  there  must  be  innumerable  things,  in  the  dispensa- 
tions of  Providence  past,  in  the  invisible  government  over  the  world 
at  present  carrying  on,  and  in  what  is  to  come,  of  which  he  was 
wholly  ignorant,*  and  which  could  not  be  discovered  without  revela- 
tion. Whether  the  scheme  of  nature  be,  in  the  strictest  sense,  infi- 
nite  or  not,  it  is  evidently  vast,  even  beyond  all  possible  imagination; 
and  doubtless  that  part  of  it  which  is  opened  to  our  view  is  but  as  a 
point,  in  comparison  of  the  whole  plan  of  Providence,  reaching 
throughout  eternity  past  and  future;  in  comparison  of  what  is  even 
now  going  on  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  boundless  universe;  nay,  in 
comparison  of  the  whole  scheme  of  this  world.  And  therefore,  that 
things  lie  beyond  the  natural  reach  of  our  faculties,  is  no  sort  of 
presumption  against  the  truth  and  reality  of  them;  because  it  is  cer- 
tain there  are  innumerable  things,  in  the  constitution  and  govern- 
ment of  the  universe,  which  are  thus  beyond  the  natural  reach  of 
our  faculties.  Secondly,  analogy  raises  no  presumption  against  any 
of  the  things  contained  in  this  general  doctrine  of  JScripture  now 
mentioned,  upon  account  of  their  being  unlike  the  known  course  of 
nature.  For  there  is  no  presumption  at  all  from  analogy,  that  the 
whole  course  of  things,  or  divine  government,  naturally  unknown  to 
us,  and  every  thing  in  it,  is  like  to  any  thing  in  that  which  is  known, 
and  therefore  no  peculiar  presumption  against  any  thing  in  the  for- 
mer, upon  account  of  its  being  unlike  to  any  thing  in  the  latter. 
And  in  the  constitution  and  natural  government  of  the  world,  as 
well  as  in  the  moral  government  of  it,  we  see  things  in  a  great  degree 
unlike  one  another,  and  therefore  ought  not  to  wonder  at  such  un- 
Jikeness  between  things  visible  and  invisible.  However,  the  scheme 
of  Christianity  is  by  no  means  entirely  unlike  the  scheme  of  nature, 
as  will  appear  in  the  following  part  of  this  treatise. 

The  notion  of  a  miracle,  considered  as  a  proof  of  a  divine  mission, 
has  been  stated  with  great  exactness  by  divines,  and  is,  I  think,  suffi- 
ciently understood  by  every  one.  There  are  also  invisible  miracles, 
the  incarnation  of  Christ,  for  instance,  which  being  secret  cannot  be 
alleged  as  a  proof  of  such  a  mission,  but  require  themselves  to  be 
proved  by  visible  miracles.  Revelation  itself  too  is  miraculous,  and 
miracles  are  the  proof  of  it;  and  the  supposed  presumption  against 
these,  shall  presently  be  considered.  All  which  I  have  been  obser- 
ving here  is,  that,  whether  we  choose  to  call  every  thing  in  the  dis- 
pensations of  Providence,  not  discoverable  without  revelation,  nor 
like  the  known  course  of  things,  miraculous,  and  whether  the  gene- 
ral Christian  dispensation  now  mentioned,  is  to  be  called  so  or  not, 
the  foregoing  observations  seem  certainly  to  shew,  that  there  is  no 
presumption  against  it,  from  the  analogy  of  nature. 

11.  There  is  no  presumption  from  analogy  against  some  opera- 
tions, which  we  should  now  call  mira.culous,  particularly  none  against 
a  revelation  at  the  beginning  pf  the  world;  nothing  of  such  presump- 
tion against  it,  as  is  supposedto  be  implied  or  expressed  in  the  word 
miraculous.    For  a  miracle,  in  its  very  notion,  is  relative  to  a  course 

Page  lOr,  108. 


152  Of  the  supposed  Presumption  Part  IJ.. 

of  nature,  and  implies  somewhat  different  from  it,  considered  as  be- 
ing so.  Now,  either  there  was  no  course  of  nature  at  the  time  which 
we  are  speaking  of,  or  if  there  were,  we  are  not  acquainted  what 
the  course  of  nature  is,  upon  the  first  peopling  of  worlds.  And 
therefore  the  question,  whether  mankind  had  a  revelation  made  to 
them  at  that  time,  is  to  he  considered,  not  as  a  question  concerning  a 
miracle,  but  as  a  common  question  of  fact.  And  we  have  the  like 
reason,  be  it  more  or  less,  to  admit  the  report  of  tradition  concern- 
ing this  question,  and  concerning  common  matters  of  fact  of  the 
same  antiquity;  for  instance,  what  part  of  the  earth  was- first  peo- 
pled. 

Or  thus:  when  mankind  was  first  placed  in  this  state,  there  was  a 
power  exerted  totally  diflerent  from  the  present  course  of  nature. 
rJow,  Avhether  this  power,  thus  wholly  different  from  the  present 
course  of  nature,  for  we  cannot  properly  apply  to  it  tlie  word  mirac- 
ulous— whether  this  power  stopped  immediately  after  it  had  made 
man,  or  went  on,  and  exerted  itself  further  in  giving  him  a  revela- 
tion, is  a  question  of  the  same  kind,  as  whetlier  an  ordinary  power 
exerted  itself  in  such  a  particular  degree  and  manner  or  not. 

Or  suppose  the  power  exerted  in  the  formation  of  the  world  b« 
considered  as  miraculous,  or  rather  be  called  by  that  name,  the  case 
will  W)t  be  different:  since  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  such  a 
power  was  exerted.  For  supposing  it  acknowledged,  that  our  Sav- 
iour spent  some  years  in  a  course  of  working  miracles,  there  is  no 
more  presumption,  worth  mentioning,  against  his  having  exerted  this 
miraculous  power,  in  a  certain  degree  greater,  than  in  a  certain  de- 
gree less;  in  one  or  two  more  instances,  than  in  one  or  two  fewer; 
in  this,  than  in  another  manner. 

It  is  evident  then,  that  there  can  be  no  peculiar  presumption,  from 
the  analogy  of  nature,  against  supposing  a  revelation  when  man  was 
first  placed  upon  the  eartli. 

Add,  that  there  does  not  appear  the  least  intimation  in  history  or 
tradition,  that  religion  was  first  reasoned  out;  but  the  whole  of  his- 
tory and  tradition  makes  for  the  other  side,  that  it  came  into  the 
world  by  revelation.  Indeed  the  state  of  religion  in  the  first  ages, 
of  which  we  have  any  account,  seems  to  suppose  and  imply  that  this 
was  the  original  of  it  amongst  mankind.  And  these  reflections  to- 
gether, without  taking  in  the  peculiar  authority  of  Scripture,  amount 
to  real  and  a  very  material  degree  of  evidence,  that  there  was  a  reve- 
lation at  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Now  this,  as  it  is  a  confirma- 
tion of  natural  religion,  and  therefore  mentioned  in  the  former  part 
of  this  treatise,*  so  likewise  it  has  a  tendency  to  remove  any  preju- 
dices against  a  subsequent  revelation. 

III.  But  still  it  may  be  objected,  that  there  is  some  peculiar  pre- 
sumption,  from  analogy,  against  miracles,  particularly  against  revela- 
tion, after  the  settlement  and  during  the  continuance  of  a  course  of 
nature. 

Now  with  regard  to  this  supposed  presumption  it  is  to  be  observed 
in  general,  that  before  we  can  have  ground  for  raising  what  can, 
with  any  propriety,  be  called  an  argument  from  analogy,  for  or  a- 
gainst  reyelation,  considered  as  somewhat  miraculous,  we  must  b^ 

•  Page  103.  &c. 


Chap.  II.  against  Miracles.  135 

acquainted  with  a  similar  or  parallel  case.  But  the  history  of  some 
other  world,  seemingly  in  like  circumstances  with  our  own,  is  no 
more  than  a  parallel  case,  and  therefore  nothing  short  of  this  can  be 
so.  Yet,  could  we  come  at  a  presumptive  proof  for  or  against  a  rev- 
elation, from  being  informed  whether  such  world  had  one  or  not,  such 
a  proof,  being  drawn  from  one  single  instance  only,  must  be  infinite- 
ly precarious.  More  particularly:  first  of  all,  there  is  a  very  strong 
presumption  against  common  speculative  truths,  and  against  the  most 
ordinary  facts,  before  the  proof  of  them,  which  yet  is  oveftome  by 
almost  any  proof.  There  is  a  presumption  of  millions  to  one  against 
the  story  of  Ccesar,  or  of  any  other  roan.  For  suppose  a  number  of 
common  facts  so  and  so  circumstanced,  of  which  one  had  no  kind  of 
proof,  should  happen  to  come  into  one's  thoughts,  every  one  would, 
without  any  possible  douht,  conclude  them  to  be  false;  and  the  like 
may  be  said  of  a  single  common  fact.  And  from  hence  it  appears, 
that  the  question  of  importance  as  to  the  matter  before  us,  is  con- 
cerning the  degree  of  the  peculiar  presumption  supposed  against 
miracles;  not  whether  there  be  any  peculiar  presumption  at  all 
against  them.  For,  if  there  be  the  presumption  of  millions  to  one 
against  the  most  common  facts,  what  can  a  small  presumption  addi- 
tional to  this  amount  to,  though  it  be  peculiar.^  It  cannot  be  estima- 
ted, and  is  as  nothing.  The  only  material  question  is,  whether  there 
he  any  such  presumption  against  miracles,  as  to  render  them  in  any 
sort  incredible.  Secondly,  if  we  leave  out  the  consideration  of  re- 
ligion, we  are  in  such  total  darkness  upon  what  causes,  occasions, 
reasons  or  circumstances,  the  present  course  of  nature  depends,  that 
there  does  not  appear  any  improbability  for  or  against  supposing, 
that  five  or  six  thousand  years  may  have  given  scope  for  causes,  oc- 
casions, reasons,  or  circumstances,  from  whence  miraculous  interpo- 
sitions may  have  arisen.  And  from  this,  joined  with  the  foregoing 
observation,  it  will  follow,  that  there  must  be  a  presumption  beyond 
all  comparison  greater,  against  the  particular  common  facts  just  now 
instanced  in,  than  against  miracles  in  general,  before  any  evidence 
of  either.  But,  thirdly,  take  in  the  consideration  of  religion,  or  the 
moral  system  of  the  world,  and  then  we  see  distinct  particular  rea- 
sons for  miracles — to  afford  mankind  instruction  additional  to  that 
of  nature,  and  to  attest  the  truth  of  it.  And  this  gives  a  real  cred- 
ibility to  the  supposition,  that  it  might  be  part  of  the  original  plan 
of  things,  that  there  should  be  miraculous  interposiiions.  Then, 
lastly,  miracles  must  not  be  compared  to  commoa  natural  events,  or 
to  events  which,  though  uncommon,  are  similar  to  what  we  daily  ex- 
perience; but  to  the  extraordinary  phenomena  of  nature.  And  then 
the  comparison'Avill  be  between  the  presumption  against  miracles, 
and  the  presumption  against  such  uncommon  appearances,  suppose, 
as  comets,  and  against  their  being  any  such  powers  in  nature  as  mag- 
netism and  electricity,  so  contrary  to  the  properties  of  other  bodies 
not  endued  with  these  powers.  And  before  any  one  can  determine 
whether  there  be  any  peculiar  presumption  against  miracles,  more 
than  against  other  extraordinary  things,  he  must  consider  what,  up- 
on first  hearing,  would  be  the  presumption  against  the  last  mention- 
ed appearances  and  powers,  to  a  person  acquainted  only  with  the 
daily,  monthly,  and  annual  course  of  nature  respecting  this  earthy 


i34  Of  the  supposed  Presumptiony  S^c,  Part  H. 

and  with  those  common  powers  of  matter  which  we  every  day 
see. 

Upon  all  this  I  conclude,  that  there  certainly  is  no  such  presump- 
tion against  miracles  as  to  render  them  in  any  wise  incredible;  that 
on  the  contrary,  our  being  able  to  discern  reasons  for  thera  gives  a 
positive  credibility  to  the  history  of  them,  in  cases  where  those  rea- 
sons hold;  and  that  it  is  by  no  means  certain,  that  there  is  any  par- 
ticular presumption  at  all,  from  analogy,  even  in  the  lowest  degree, 
against  ftiiracles,  as  distinguished  from  other  extraordinary  phenome- 
na— though  it  is  not  worth  while  to  perplex  the  reader  with  inquiries 
into  the  abstract  nature  of  evidence,  in  order  to  determine  a  ques= 
tfon,  which  without  such  inquiries  we  see*  is  of  no  importance* 

•  Page  133. 


CftAP.  III.  Tlie  Credibility  of  Revelation,  S^c.  135 


CHAP.  III. 


Of  our  Incapacity  of  judging  what  were  to  he  expected  in  a  Revela- 
tion;  and  the  Credibility^  from  Analogy,  that  it  must  contain 
Things  appearing  liable  to  Objections, 

BESIDES  the  objections  against  the  evidence  for  Christianity, 
many  are  alleged  against  the  scheme  of  it,  against  the  whole  manner 
in  which  it  is  put  and  left  with  the  world,  as  well  as  against  several 
particular  relations  in  Scripture;  objections  drawn  from  the  deficien- 
cies of  revelation;  from  things  in  it  appearing  to  men  foolishness^* 
from  its  containing  matters  of  offence,  which  have  led,  and  it  must 
have  been  foreseen  would  lead,  into  strange  enthusiasm  and  super* 
8tition,  and  be  made  to  serve  the  purposes  of  tyranny  and  wicked- 
ness; from  its  not  being  universal;  and,  which  is  a  thing  of  the  same 
kind,  from  its  evidence  not  being  so  convincing  and  satisfactory  as 
it  might  have  been;  for  this  last  is  sometimes  turned  into  a  positive 
argument  against  its  truth. f    It  would  be  tedious,  indeed  impossible, 
to  enumerate  the  several  particulars  comprehended  under  the  objec- 
tions here  referred  to;  they  being.so  various,  according  to  the  different 
fancies  of  men.    There  are  persons  who  think  it  a  strong  objection 
against  the  authority  of  Scripture,  that  it  is  not  composed  by  rules  of 
art,  agreed  upon  by  criticks,  for  polite  and  correct  writings.     And 
the    scorn    is  inexpressible,    with   which  some   of  the    prophetic 
parts  of  Scripture  are  treated;  partly  through  the  rashness  of  inter- 
preters, but  very  much  also  on  account  of  the  hieroglyphical  and  fig- 
urative language  in  which  they  are  left  us.     Some  of  the  principal 
things  of  this  sort  shall  be  particularly  considered  in  the  following 
chapters.    But  my  design  at  present  is  to  observe  in  general,  with 
respect  to  this  whole  way  of  arguing,  that,  upon  supposition  of  a  rev- 
elation, it  is  highly  credible  beforehand,  we  should  be  incompetent 
Judges  of  it,  to  a  great  degree;  and  that  it  would  contain  many  things 
appearing  to  us  liable  to  great  objections,  in  case  we  judge  of  it  oth- 
erwise than  by  the  analogy  of  nature.     And  therefore  though  objec- 
tions against  the  evidence  of  Christianity  are  most  seriously  to  be 
considered,  yet  objections  against  Christianity  itself  are,  in  a  great 
measure,  frivolous;  almost  all  objections  against  it,  excepting  those 
which  are  alleged  against  the  particular  proofs  of  its  coming  from 
God.    I  express  myself  with  caution,  lest  I  should  be  mistaken  to 
vilify  reason,  which  is  indeed  the  only  faculty  we  have  wherewith  to 
judge  concerning  any  thing,  even  revelation  itself;  or  be  misunder- 
stood to  assert,  that  a  supposed  revelation  cannot  be  proved  false 
from  internal  characters.    For,  it  may  Qontain  clear  immoralities  or 

*  I  Car.  i.  2l»       |  See  Chap. «» 


13^  Hie  Credibility  of  Revelation  Part  If. 

contradictions,  and  either  of  these  would  prove  it  false.  Nor  will  I 
take  upon  me  to  affirm,  that  nothing  else  can  possibly  render  any  sup- 
posed revelation  incredible.  Yet  still  the  observation  above  is,  I 
think,  true  beyond  doubt,  that  objections  against  Christianity,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  objections  against  its  evidence,  are  frivolous.  To 
make  out  this,  is  the  general  design  of  the  present  chapter.  And 
with  regard  to  the  whole  of  it,  I  cannot  but  particularly  wish  that  the 
proofs  might  be  attended  to,  rather  than  the  assertions  cavilled  at, 
upon  account  of  any  unacceptable  consequences,  whether  real  or  sup- 
posed, which  may  be  drawn  from  them.  For,  after  all,  that  which  is 
true  must  be  admitted,  thongh  it  should  shew  us  the  shortness  of  our 
faculties,  and  that  we  are  in  no  wise  judges  of  many  things,  of  which 
we  are  apt  to  think  ourselves  very  conipetent  ones.  Nor  will  this 
be  any  objection  with  reasonable  men,  at  least  upon  second  thought 
it  will  not  be  any  objection  with  such,  against  the  justness  of  the  fol- 
lowing observations. 

As  God  governs  the  world,  and  instructs  his  creatures,  according 
to  certain  laws  or  rules,  in  the  known  course  of  nature,  known  by  rea- 
son together  with  experience— so  the  Scripture  informs  iis  of  a 
scheme  of  divine  Providence  additional  to  this.  It  relates,  that  God 
has,  by  revelation,  instructed  men  in  things  concerning  his  govern- 
ment which  they  could  not  otherwise  have  known,  and  reminded 
them  of  things  which  they  might  otherwise  know,  and  attested  the 
truth  of  the  whole  by  miracles.  Now  if  the  natural  and  the  revealed 
dispensation  of  things  are  both  from  God,  if  they  coincide  with  each 
other,  and  together  make  up  one  scheme  of  Providence — our  being 
incompetent  judges  of  one,  must  render  it  credible  that  we  may  be 
incompetent  judges  also  of  the  other.  Since,  upon  experience,  the 
acknowledged  constitution  and  course  of  nature  is  found  to  be  greatly 
different  from  what,  before  experience,  would  have  been  expected, 
and  such  as  men  fancy  there  lie  great  objections  against — this  ren- 
ders it  beforehand  highly  credible,  that  they  may  find  the  revealed 
dispensation  likewise,  if  they  judge  of  it  as  they  do  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  nature,  very  different  from  expectations  formed  beforehand, 
and  liable,  in  appearance,  to  great  objections;  objections  against  the 
scheme  itself,  and  against  the  degrees  and  manners  of  the  miraculous 
interpositions  by  which  it  was  attested  and  carried  on.  Thus,  sup- 
pose a  prince  to  govern  his  dominions  in  the  wisest  manner  possible, 
by  common  known  laws,  and  that  upon  some  exigencies  he  should 
suspend  these  laws,  and  govern,  in  several  instances,  in  a  different 
manner;  if  one  of  his  subjects  were  not  a  competent  judge  before- 
hand, by  what  common  rules  the  government  should  or  would  be  car- 
ried on,  it  could  not  be  expected  that  the  same  person  would  be  a 
competent  judge,  in  what  exigencies,  or  in  what  manner,  or  to  what 
degree,  those  laws  commonly  observed  would  be  suspended  or  devi- 
ated from.  If  he  were  not  a  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  the  ordinary  ad- 
ministration, there  is  no  reason  to  think  he  would  be  a  judge  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  extraordinary.  If  he  thought  he  had  objections  against 
the  former,  doubtless  it  is  highly  supposable  he  might  think  also  that 
he  had  objections  against  the  latter. 

And  thus  as  we  fall  into  infinite  follies  and  mistakes,  whenever  we 
pretend,  otherwise  than  from  experience  and  analogy,  to  judge  of  the 


Chap.  III.  liable  to  Objections.  1S7 

constitution  and  course  of  nature — it  is  evidently  supposable  before- 
hand that  we  should  fall  into  as  great  in  pretending  to  judge,  in  the 
like  manner  concerning  revelation.  Nor  is  there  any  more  ground 
to  expect  that  this  latter  should  appear  to  us  cleaj-  of  objections,  than 
that  the  former  should. 

These  observations,  relating  to  the  whole  of  Christianity,  are  ap- 
plicable to  inspiration  in  particular.  As  we  are  in  no  sort  judges 
beforehand,  by  what  laws  or  rules,  in  what  degree,  or  by  what  means, 
it  were  to  have  been  expected,  that  God  would  naturally  instruct  us- 
so  upon  supposition  of  his  affording  us  light  and  instruction  by  reve- 
lation, additional  to  what  he  has  afforded  us  by  reason  and  experi- 
ence, we  are  in  no  sort  judges  by  what  methods,  and  in  what  propor- 
tion, it  were  to  be  expected  that  this  supernatural  light  and  instruc- 
tion would  be  afforded  us.  We  know  not  beforehand,  what  degree 
or  kind  of  natural  information  it  were  to  be  expected  God  would 
afford  men,  each  by  his  own  reason  and  experience;  nor  how  far  he 
would  enable  and  effectually  dispose  them  to  communicate  it,  what- 
ever it  should  be,  to  each  other;  nor  whether  the  evidence  of  it  would 
be  certain,  highly  probable,  or  doubtful;  nor  whether  it  would  be 
given  with  equal  clearness  and  conviction  to  all.  Nor  could  we 
guess,  upon  any  good  ground  I  mean,  whether  natural  knowledge,  or 
even  the  faculty  itself  by  which  we  are  capable  of  attaining  it,  rea- 
son, would  be  given  us  at  once,  or  gradually.  In  like  manner  we 
are  wholly  ignorant,  what  degree  of  new  knowledge  it  were  to  be  ex- 
pected God  would  give  njankind  by  revelation,  upon  supposition  of 
his  affording  one;  or  how  far,  or  in  what  way,  he  would  interpose 
miraculously  to  qualify  them,  to  whom  hq  should  originally  make  the 
revelation,  for  communicating  the  knowledge  given  by  it,  and  to 
secure  their  doing  it  to  the  age  in  which  they  should  live,  and  to  se- 
cure its  being  transmitted  to  posterity.  We  are  equally  ignorant 
whether  the  evidence  of  it  would  be  certain,  or  highly  probable,  or 
doubtful;*  or  whether  all  who  should"  have  .any  degree  of  instruction 
from  it,  and  any  degree  of  evidence  of  its  truth,  would  have  the  same; 
or  whether  ihe  scheme  would  be  revealed  at  once,  or  unfolded  grad- 
ually. Nay,  we  are  not  in  any  sort  able  to  judge,  whether  it  were  to 
have  been  expected  that  the  revelation  should  have  been  committed 
to  writing,  or  left  to  be  handed  down,  and  consequently  corrupted 
by  verbal  tradition,  and  at  length  sunk  under  it,  if  mankind  so  pleas- 
ed, and  during  such  time  as  they  are  permitted,  in  the  degree  they 
evidently  are,  to  act  as  they  will. 

But  it  may  be  said,  "  that  a  revelation  in  some  of  the  above  men- 
tioned circumstances,  one,  for  instance,  which  was  not  committed  to 
writing,  and  thus  secured  against  danger  of  corruption,  would  not 
have  answered  its  purpose."  I  ask,  what  purpose?  It  would  not  have 
answered  all  the  purposes  which  it  has  now  answered,  and  in  the 
same  degree;  but  it  would  have  answered  othel-s,  or  the  same  in  dif- 
ferent degrees.  And  wiiich  of  these  were  the  purposes  of  God,  and 
best  fell  in  with  his  general  government,  we  could  not  at  all  have 
determined  beforehand. 

*  SVe  Chap.  vi. 


lo.  The  Credibility  of  lievelalion  Part  ITT 

Now  sim  e  it  h^s  been  shewn,  that  we  have  no  principles  of  reason, 
upon  which  to  judge  beforehand  how  it  were  to  be  expected  revelation 
should  have  been  left,  or  what  was  most  suitable  to  the  divine  plan 
of  govetiinient  in  an}  of  the  forementioned  respects — itinust  be  quite 
frivolous  10  object  afterwards  as  to  any  of  them,  against  its  being  left  _ 
in  one  way  rather  tlian  another;  for  this  would  be  to  object  against 
things,  upon  account  of  their  being  difterent  from  expectations,  which 
have  been  shewn  to  be  without  reason.  And  thus  we  see  that  the 
only  question  concerning  the  truth  of  Christianity  is,  whether  it  be  a 
real  revelation;  not  whether  it  be  attended  with  every  circumstance 
which  we  should  have  looked  for — and  concerning  the  authority  of 
Scripture,  whether  it  be  what  it  claims  to  be;  not  whether  it  be  a 
book  of  such  sort,  ami  so  promulged,  as  weak  men  are  apt  to  fancy 
a  book  containing  a  divine  revelation  should.  And- therefore  neither 
obscurity,  nor  seeming  inaccuracy  of  style,  nor  various  readings,  nor 
early  disputes  about  the  authors  of  particular  parts,  nor  any  other 
things  of  the  like  kind,  though  they  had  been  much  more  considerable 
in  degree  than  they  are,  could  overthrow  the  authority  of  the  Scrip- 
ture; unless  the  prophets,  apostles,  or  our  Lord,  had  promised  tliat 
the  book  containing  the  divine  revelation  should  be  secure  from  those 
things.  Nor  indeed  can  any  objections  overthrow  such  a  kind  of 
revelation  as  the  Christian  claims  to  be,  since  there  are  no  objections 
against  the  morality  of  it,*  but  such  as  can  shew  that  there  is  no 
proof  of  miracles  wrought  originally  in  attestation  of  it,  no  appear- 
ance of  any  thing  miraculous  in  its  obtaining  in  the  world,  nor  any 
ot  prophecy,  that  is,  of  events  foretold  which  human  sagacity  could 
not  foresee,  if  it  can  be  shewn,  that  the  proof  alleged  for  all  these 
is  absolutely  none  at  all,  then  is  revelation  overturned.  But  weie  it 
allowed  that  the  proof  of  any  one  or  all  of  them  is  lower  than  is  allow- 
ed, yet,  whilst  any  proof  of  them  remains,  revelation  will  stand  upon 
much  the  same  foot  it  does  at  present,  as  to  all  the  purposes  of  life 
and  practice,  and  ought  to  have  the  like  influence  upon  our  behav- 
iour. 

From  the  foregoing«bservations  too  it  will  follow,  and  those  who 
will  thoroughly  examine  into  revelation  will  find  it  worth  remarking, 
that  there  are  several  ways  of  arguing,  which,  though  just  with  re- 
gard to  oth^r  writings,  are  not  applicable  to  Scripture;  at  least  not 
to  the  prophetic  parts  of  it.  We  cannot  argue,  for  instance,  that  this 
cannot  be  the  sense  or  intent  of  such  a  passage  of  Scripture,  for  if  it 
had  it  would  have  been  expressed  more  plainly,  or  have  been  repre- 
sented undei'  a  more  apt  figure  or  hieroglyphick;  yet  we  may  justly 
argue  thus  with  respect  to  common  books.  And  the  reason  of  thjs 
difterence  is  very  evident,  that  in  Scripture  we  are  not  competent 
judges,  as  we  are  in  common  books,  how  plainly  it  were  to  have  been 
expected,  what  is  the  true  sense  should  have  been  expressed,  or  un- 
der how  apt  an  image  figured.  The  only  question  is,  what  appear- 
ance there  is  that  this  is  the  sense,  and  scarce  at  all  how  much  more 
determinately  or  accurately  it  might  have  been  expressed  or  figured. 

"  But  is  it  not  self-evident,  that  internal  improbabilities  of  all  kinds 
weaken  external  probable  proof.'"'  Doubtless.  But  to  what  practical 
purpose  caa  this  be  alleged  here,  when  it  has  been  proved  before,  ; 

•Page  142.  f  Page  132. 


Chat.  III.  liable  to  Objections.  139 

that  real  internal  improbabilities,  which  rise  even  to  moral  certainty, 
are  overcome  by  the  most  ordinary  testimony,  and  when  it  now  has 
been  made  appear^^hat  we  scarce  know  what  are  improbabilities  as 
to  the  matter  we  are  here  considering — as  it  will  farther  appear  from 
what  follows. 

For  though  from  the  observations  above  made,  it  is  manifest  that 
we  are  not  in  any  sort  competent  judges  what  supernatural  instruc- 
tion were  to  have  been  expected,  and  though  it  is  self-evident  that 
the  objections  of  an  incompetent  judgment  must  be  frivolous — yet  it 
may  be  proper  to  go  one  step  farther,  and  observe,  that  if  men  will 
be  regardless  of  these  things,  and  pretend  to  judge  of  the  Scripture 
by  preconceived  expectations,  the  analogy  of  nature  shews  before- 
hand, not  only  that  it  is  highly  credible  they  may,  but  also  probable 
that  they  will,  imagine  they  have  strong  objections  against  it,  how- 
ever really  unexceptionable;  for  so,  prior  to  experience,  they  would 
think  they  had,  against  the  circumstances  and  degrees,  and  the  whole 
manner  of  that  instruction  which  is  afforded  by  the  ordinary  Cv-;irse 
of  nature.  Were  the  instruction  which  God  affords  to  brute  crea- 
tures by  instincts  and  mere  propensions,  and  to  mankind  by  these 
together  with  reason,  matter  of  probabable  proof,  and  not  of  certain 
ohservation — it  would  be  rejected  as  incredible  in  «»any  instances  of 
it,  only  upon  account  of  the  means  by  which  this  instruction  is  given, 
the  seeming  disproportions,  the  limitations,  necessary  conditions  and 
circnrastances  of  it.  For  instance — would  it  not  have  been  thought 
highly  improbable,  that  men  should  have  been  so  much  more  capable 
of  discovering,  even  to  certainty,  the  general  laws  of  matter,  and  the 
magnitudes,  paths  and  revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  than  the 
occasions  and  cures  of  distempers,  and  many  other  things  in  which 
human  life  seems  so  much  more  nearly  concerned  than  in  astronomy? 
How  capricious  and  irregiilar  a  way  of  information,  would  it  be  said, 
is  that  ofinvention,  by  means  of  which  nature  instructs  us  in  matters 
of  science,  and  in  many  things  upon  which  the  affairs  of  the  world 
greatly  depend;  that  a  man  should  by  this  faculty  be  made  acquainted 
with  a  thing  in  an  instant,  when  perhaps  he  is  thinking  of  somewhat 
else  which  he  has  in  vain  been  searching  after,  it  may  be,  for  years. 
So  likewise  the  imperfections  attending  the  only  method  by  which 
nature  enables  and  directs  us  to  communicate  our  thoughts  to  each 
other,  are  innumerable.  Language  is  in  its  very  nature  inadequate, 
ambiguous,  liable  to  infinite  abuse  even  from  negligence,  and  so  lia- 
ble to  it  from  design,  that  every  man  can  deceive  and  betray  by  it. 
And  to  mention  but  one  instance  more,  that  brutes  without  reason 
should  act,  in  many  respects,  with  a  sagacity  and  foresight  vastly 
greater  than  what  men  have  in  those  respects,  would  oe  thought  im- 
possible; yet  it  is  certain  they  do  act  with  such  superior  foresight—- 
whether  it  be  their  own  indeed  is  another  question.  From  these 
things  it  is  highly  credible  beforehand,  that  upon  supposition  God 
should  afford  men  some  additional  instruction  by  revelation,  it  would 
be  with  circumstances,  in  manners,  degrees  and  respects,  whicli  we 
should  be  apt  to  fancy  we  had  great  objections  against  the  credibility 
of.  Nor  are  the  objections  against  the  Scripture,  nor  against  Chris- 
tianity in  general,  at  all  more  or  greater  than  the  analogy  of  nature 
would  beforehand — not  perhaps  give  ground  to  expect,  fur  this  aaal- 


140  The  Credibility  of  Revelation  Part  II. 

ogy  may  not  be  sufficient  in  some  case  to  ground  an  expectation  upon, 
but  no  more  nor  greater  than  analogy  would  shew  it,  beforehand,  to 
be  supposable  and  credible  that  there  miglit  seem  to  lie  against  rere- 
lation. 

By  applying  these  general  observations  to  a  particular  objection, 
it  will  be  more  distinctly  seen  how  they  are  applicable  to  others  of 
the  like  kind,  and  indeed  to  almost  all  objections  against  Christian- 
ity, as  distinguished  from  objections  against  its  evidence.  It  appeajs 
from  Scripture,  that  as  it  was  not  unusual  in  the  apostolick  age  for 
persons,  upon  their  conversion  to  Christianity,  to  be  endued  with 
miraculous  gifts,  so  some  of  those  persons  exercised  these  gifts  in  a 
strangely  irregular  and  disorderly  manner;  and  this  is  made  an  ob- 
jection against  their  being  really  miraculous.  Now  tlie  foregoing 
observations  quite  remove  this  objection,  how  considerable  soever  it 
may  appear  at  first  sight.  For  consider  a  person  endued  with  any 
of  these  gifts,  for  instance,  that  of  tongues,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that 
he  had  the  same  power  over  this  miraculous  gift,  as  he  would  have 
had  over  it  had  it  been  tlie  effect  of  habit,  of  study  and  use,  as  it 
ordinarily  is,  or  the  same  power  over  it  as  he  had  over  any  other  nat- 
ural endowment.  Consequetitly  he  would  use  it  in  the  same  man- 
tier  he  did  any  other,  either  regularly  and  upon  proper  occasions 
only,  or  irregularly  and  upon  improper  ones,  according  to  his  sense 
of  decency,  and  his  character  of  prudence.  Where  then  is  the  ob- 
jection? Why,  if  this  miraculous  power  was  indeed  given  to  the 
world  to  propagate  Christianity  and  attest  the  truth  of  it,  we  might, 
it  seems,  have  expected  that  other  sort  of  persons  siiould  have  been 
chosen  to  be  invested  with  it:  or  that  these  should,  at  the  same  time, 
have  been  endued  M'ith  prudence;  or  that  they  should  have  been  con- 
tinually restrained  and  directed  in  the  exercise  of  it;  i.  e.  that  God 
should  have  miraculously  interposed,  if  at  all,  in  a  different  manner 
or  higher  degree.  But  from  the  observations  made  above,  it  is  unde- 
7iiably  evident  that  we  are  not  judges  in  what  degrees  and  manners 
it  were  to  have  been  expected  he  should  miraculously  interpose, 
upon  supposition  of  his  doing  it  in  some  degree  and  tnanner.  Nor, 
in  the  natural  course  of  Providence,  are  superior  gifts  of  memwy, 
eloquence,  knowledge,  and  other  talents  of  great  iniluence,  conferred 
only  on  persons  of  prudence  and  decency,  or  such  as  are  disposed  to 
make  the  properest  use  of  them.  Nor  is  the  instruction  and  admo- 
nition naturally  afforded  us  for  the  conduct  of  life,  particularly  in 
our  education,  commonly  given  in  a  manner  the  most  suited  to  re- 
commend it.  but  often  with  circumstances  apt  to  prejudice  us  against 
such  instruction. 

One  might  go  on  to  add,  that  there  is  a  great  resemblance  between 
the  light  of  nature  and  of  rovelation  in  several  other  respects. 
Practical  Christianity,  or  that  faith  an«l  behaviour  which  renders  a 
man  a  Christian,  is  a  plain  and  obvious  thing,  like  the  common  rules 
of  conduct  with  respect  to  our  ordinary  temporal  affairs.  The  more 
distinct  and  particalar  knowledge  of  those  things,  the  study  of  which 
liie  Apostle  calls  going  on  unto  peTfection,*  and  of  the  prophetic 
parts  of  revelatiun,  like  many  parts  of  natural  and  even  civil  knowl- 

'Ucb.  vi.    1. 


Chap.  III.  liable  to  Objections,  141 

edge,  may  require  very  exact  thought,  and  careful  consideration. 
The  hindrances  too,  of  natural  and  of  supernatural  light  and  knowl- 
edge, have  been  of  the  same  kind.  And  as,  it  is  owned,  the  whole 
scheme  of  Scripture  is  not  yet  understood,  so,  if  it  ever  conies  to  be 
understood,  before  the  restitution  of  all  things,*  and  without  mirac- 
ulous interpositions,  it  must  be  in  the  same  way  as  natural  knowl- 
edge is  come  at,  by  the  continuance  and  progress  of  learning  and  of 
liberty,  and  by  particular  persons  attending  to,  comparing  and  pur- 
suing intimations  scattered  up  and  down  it,  which  are  overlooked 
and  disregarded  by  the  generality  of  the  world.  For  this  is  the 
way  in  which  all  improvements  are  made,  by  thoughtful  men's  tra- 
cing on  obscure  hints,  as  it  were,  dropped  us  by  nature  accidentally, 
or  which  seem  to  come  into  our  minds  by  chance.  Nor  is  it  at  all 
incredible,  that  a  book  which  has  been  so  long  in  the  possession  of 
mankind  should  contain  many  truths  as  yet  undiscovered.  For,  all 
the  same  phenomena  and  the  same  faculties  of  investigation,  from 
which  such  great  discoveries  in  natural  knowledge  have  been  made 
in  the  present  and  last  age,  were  equally  in  the  possession  of  man- 
kind several  thousand  years  before-  And  possibly  it  might  be  inten- 
ded, that  events,  as  they  come  to  pass,  should  open  and  ascertain 
the  meaning  of  several  parts  of  Scripture. 

It  may  be  objected,  that  this  analogy  fails  in  a  material  respect; 
for  that  natural  knowledge  is  of  little  or  no  consequence.  iJut  I 
have  been  speaking  of  the  general  instruction  which  nature  does  or 
does  not  afford  us.  And  besides,  some  parts  of  natural  knowledge, 
in  the  more  common  restrained  sense  of  the  words,  are  of  the  gieat- 
est  consequence  to  the  ease  and  convenience  of  life.  But  suppose 
the  analogy  did,  as  it  does  not,  fail  in  this  respect,  yet  it  might  be 
abundantly  supplied  from  the  whole  constitution  and  course  of  na- 
ture, which  shews  that  God  does  not  dispense  his  gifts  according  to 
our  notions  of  the  advantage  and  consequence  they  would  be  of  to  us. 
And  this  in  general,  with  his  method  of  dispensing  knowledge  in  par- 
ticular, would  together  make  out  an  analogy  full  to  the  point  before 
us. 

But  it  may  be  objected  still  fartlier  and  more  generally,  "  The 
Scripture  represents  the  world  as  in  a  state  of  ruin,  and  Christiani- 
ty as  an  expedient  to  recover  it,  to  help  in  these  respects  where  na- 
ture fails;  in  particular,  to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  natural  light. 
Is  it  credible  then,  that  so  many  ages  should  have  been  let  pass,  be- 
fore a  matter  of  such  a  sort,  of  so  great  and  so  general  importance, 
was  made  known  to  mankind;  and  then  that  it  should  be  made  known 
to  so  small  a  part  of  them.''  Is  it  conceivable,  that  this  supply 
should  be  so  very  deficient,  should  have  the  like  obscurity  and  doubt- 
fulness, be  liable  to  the  like  perversions,  in  short  lie  open,  to  all  the 
like  objections,  as  the  light  of  nature  itself.'"'t  Without  determin- 
ing how  far  this  in  fact  is  so,  I  answer — -it  is  by  no  means  incred- 
ible that  it  might  be  so,  if  the  light  of  nature  and  of  revelation 
be  from  the  same  hand.  Men  are  naturally  liable  to  diseases,  for 
which  God,  in  his  good  providence,  has  provided  natural  reniedies  ^ 
But  remedies  existing  in  nature  have  been  unknown  to  mankind  for 
jnany  ages,  are  known  to  but  few  now,  probably  many  valuable  ones 

*  Acts  ill,  21.       t  See  Chap.  vi.        t  Chap.  v. 


142  The  Credibility  of  Revelation  Pah  r  If. 

arc  not  known  yet.  Great  has  been  and  is  the  obscurity  and  diffi- 
culty in  the  nature  and  application  of  them.  Circumstances  seem 
often  to  make  them  ver\'  improper,  where  they  are  absolutely  neces- 
sary. It  is  after  long  labor  and  study,  and  many  unsuccessful  en- 
deavors, that  they  are  brought  to  be  as  useful  as  they  are;  after  high 
contempt  and  absolute  rejection  of  the  m(»st  useful  we  have:  and  af- 
ter disputes  and  doubts  which  hat*e  seemed  to  be  endless.  The  best 
remedies  too,  when  unskilfully,  much  more  if  dishonestly  applied, 
may  produce  new  diseases;  and  with  the  rightest  application,  the 
success  of  them  is  often  doubtful.  In  many  cases  they  are  not  at 
all  effectual;  where  tliey  are,  it  is  often  very  slowly;  and  the  appli- 
cation of  them,  and  the  necessary  regimen  accompanying  it,  is,  not 
uncommonly,  so  disagreeable,  that  some  will  not  submit  to  them, 
and  satify  themselves  with  the  excuse,  that  if  they  would,  it  is  not 
certain  whether  it  would  be  successful.  And  many  persons  who  la- 
bor under  diseases  for  which  there  are  known  natural  remedies,  are 
not  so  happy  as  to  be  always,  if  ever,  in  the  way  of  them.  In  a 
word,  the  remedies  which  nature  has  provided  for  diseases  are  nei- 
ther certain,  perfect,  nor  universal.  And  indeed  the  same  princi- 
ples of  arguing  which  would  lead  us  to  conclude  that  they  must  be 
so,  would  lead  us  likewise  to  conclude  that  there  could  be  no  occa- 
sion for  them,  i.  e.  that  there  could  be  no  diseases  at  all.  And  there- 
fore, our  experience  that  there  are  diseases,  shews  that  it  is  credible 
beforehand,  upon  supposition  nature  has  provided  remedies  for  them, 
that  these  remedies  may  be,  as  by  experience  we  find  they  are,  not 
certain,  nor  perfect,  nor  universal;  because  it  shews,  that  the  princi- 
ples upon  vvhich  we  should  expect  the  contrary  are  fallacious. 

And  now,  what  is  the  just  consequence  from  all  these  things.''  Not 
that  reason  is  no  judge  of  what  is  oflered  to  us  as  being  of  divine 
revelatiwn.  For  this  would  be  to  infer  that  we  are  unable  to  judge 
of  any  thing,  because  we  are  unable  to  judge  of  all  things.  Reason 
can  and  it  ought  to  judge,  not  only  of  the  meaning,  but  also  of  the 
morality  and  the  evidence  of  revelation.  First,  it  is  the  province  of 
reason  to  judge  of  the  morality  of  the  Scripture;  i.  e.  not  whether  it 
contains  things  different  from  what  we  should  have  expected  from  a 
wise,  just  and  good  Being,  for  objections  from  hence  have  been  now 
obviated  ;  but  whether  it  contains  things  plainly  contradictory  to 
wisdom,  justice  or  goodness;  to  what  the  light  of  nature  teaches  us 
of  God.  And  I  know  nothing  of  this  sort  objected  against  Scrip- 
ture, excepting  such  objections  as  are  formed  upon  suppositions, 
which  would  equally  conclude  that  the  constitution  of  nature  is  con- 
tradictory to  wisdom,  justice,  or  goodness,  vvhich  most  certainly  it  is 
not.  Indeed  there  are  some  particular  precepts  in  Scripture,  given 
to  particular  persons,  recjuiring  actions  which  would  be  immoral  and 
vicious  vvere  it  not  for  such  precepts  But  it  is  easy  to  see  (hat  alt 
tlicse  are  of  such  a  kind,  as  that  the  precept  changes  the  whole  na- 
ture of  the  case  and  of  the  action,  and  both  constitutes  and  shews 
that  not  to  be  unjust  or  immoral,  which,  prior  to  the  precept,  must 
have  appeared  at*d  really  have  been  so;  whith  may  well  be,  since 
none  of  these  precepts  are  contrary  to  immutable  morality.  If  it 
were  ccfinmanded  to  cultivate  the  principles,  and  act  from  the  spirit 
of  treachery,  ingratitude,  cruelty,  the  command  would  not  alter  the 

Me  of  tiie  case  or  of  the  action  in  any  of  these  instances.     But 


iia 


Chap.  III.  liable  to  Objections.  14.5 

it  is  quite  otherwise  in  precepts,  which  requre  only  the  doing  an 
external  action;  for  instance,  taking  away  the  property  or  life  of 
any.  For  men  have  no  right  to  either  life  or  property,  but  what  ari- 
ses solely  from  the  grant  of  God;  when  this  grant  is  revoked,  they 
cease  to  have  any  right  at  all  in  either;  and  when  this  revocation  is 
made  known,  as  surely  it  is  possible  it  may  be,  it  must  cease  to  he 
unjust  to  deprive  them  of  either.  And  though  a  course  of  external 
acts,  which  without  command  would  be  immoral,  must  make  an  im- 
moral habit,  yet  a  few  detached  commands  have  no  such  natural 
tendency.  '  I  thought  proper  to  say  thus  much  of  the  few  Scripture 
precepts,  which  require,  not  vicious  actions,  but  actions  which  would 
nave  been  vicious  had  it  not  been  for  such  precepts;  because  they 
are  sometimes  weakly  urged  as  immoral,  and  great  weight  is  laid  up- 
on objections  drawn  from  them.  But  to  me  there  seems  no  difficul- 
ty at  all  in  these  precepts,  but  what  arises  from  their  being  offences, 
i.  e.  from  their  being  liable  to  be  perverted,  as  indeed  they  are,  by 
wicked  designing  men,  to  serve  the  most  horrid  purposes;  and,  per- 
haps, to  mislead  the  weak  and  enthusiastic.  And  objections  frcru 
this  head  are  not  objections  against  revelation,  but  against  the  whole 
notion  of  religion  as  a  trial,  and  against  the  general  constitution  of 
nature.  Secondly,  reason  is  able  to  judge,  and  must,  of  the  evidence 
of  revelation,  and  of  the  objections  urged  against  that  evidence; 
which  shall  be  the  subject  of  a  following  chapter.* 

But  the  consequence  of  the  foregoing  observation  is,  that  the  ques- 
tion upon  which  the  truth  of  Christianity  depends  is  scarce  at  ail 
what  objections  there  are  against  its  scheme,  since  there  are  none 
against  the  morality  of  it:  but  what  objections  there  are  against  its 
evidence,  or  what  proof  there  remains  of  it,  after  due  allowances 
made  for  the  objections  against  that  proof;  because  it  has  been 
shewn,  that  the  objections  against  Christianity,  as  distinguished 
from  objections  against  its  evidence,  are  frivolous.  For  surely  very 
little  weight,  if  any  at  all,  is  to  be  laid  upon  a  v/ay  of  arguing  and 
objecting,  which,  when  applied  to  the  general  constitution  of  nature, 
experience  shews  not  to  be  conclusive;  and  such,  I  think,  is  the 
whole  way  of  objecting  treated  of  throughout  this  chapter.  It  is  re- 
solvable into  principles,  and  goes  upon  suppositions  which  mislead  as 
to  think  that  the  Author  of  nature  would  not  act  as  we  experience 
he  does,  or  would  act,  in  such  and  such  cases,  as  we  experience  he 
does  not,  in  like  cases.  But  the  unreasonableness  of  this  way  of 
objecting  will  appear  yet  more  evidently  from  hence,  that  the  chief 
things  thus  objected  against  are  justified,  as  shall  be  farther  shown,  f 
by  distinct,  particular  and  full  analogies,  in  the  constitution  and 
course  of  nature 

But  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that,  as  frivolous  as  objections  of  the 
foregoing  sort  against  revelation  are,  yet,  when  a  supposed  revela- 
tion is  more  consistent  with  itself,  and  has  a  more  general  and  uni- 
form tendency  to  promote  virtue,  than,  all  circumstances  considered, 
could  have  been  expected  from  enthusiasm  and  political  views — this 
is  a  presumptive  proof  of  its  not  proceeding  from  them,  and  so  of  its 
truth;  because  we  are  competent  judges  what  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  enthusiasm  and  political  views. 

*  Chap,  vi         \  Chap.  iv.  latter  part    And  v.  vi. 


144  Christianity  a  Scheme,  Part  II. 


CHAP.  IV. 

Of  Christianity,  considered  as  a  Scheme  or  Constitution^  imperfect- 
ly comprehended. 

IT  hath  been  shewn*  that  the  analogy  of  nature  renders  it  highly 
credible  beforehand,  that  supposing  a  revelation  to  be  made,  it  must 
contain  many  things  very  different  from  what  we  should  have  expec- 
ted, and  such  as  appear  open  to  great  objections,  and  that  this  obser- 
vation, in  good  measure,  takes  off  the  force  of  those  objections,  or 
rather  precludes  them.  But  it  may  be  alleged,  that  this  is  a  very 
partial  answer  to  such  objections,  or  a  very  unsatisfactory  way  of  ob- 
viating them,  because  it  doth  not  shew  at  all  that  the  things  objec- 
ted against  can  be  wise,  just  and  good,  much  less  that  it  is  credible 
they  are  so.  It  will  therefore  be  proper  to  shew  this  distinctly,  by 
applying  to  these  objections  against  the  wisdom,  justice  and  good- 
ness of  Christianity,  the  answer  abovef  given  to  the  like  objections 
against  the  constitution  of  nature,  before  we  consider  the  particular 
analogies  in  the  latter  to  the  particular  things  objected  against  in  the 
former.  Now  that  which  affords  a  suflScient  answer  to  objections 
against  the  wisdom,  justice  and  goodness  of  the  constitution  of  na- 
ture, is  its  being  a  constitution,  a  system  or  scheme  imperfectly  com- 
prehended; a  scheme  in  which  means  are  made  use  of  to  accomplish 
ends,  and  which  is  carried  on  by  general  laws.  For  from  these 
things  it  has  been  proved,  not  only  to  be  possible,  but  also  to  be  cred- 
ible, that  those  things  which  are  objected  against  may  be  consistent 
with  wisdom,  justice  and  goodness,  nay  may  be  instances  of  them; 
and  even  that  the  constitution  and  government  of  nature  may  be 
perfect  in  the  highest  possible  degree.  If  Christianity  then  be  a 
scheme,  and  of  the  like  kind,  it  is  evident  tlie  like  objections  against 
it  must  admit  of  the  like  answer      And, 

I.  Christianity  is  a  scheme,  quite  beyond  our  comprehension. 
The  moral  government  of  God  is  exercised,  by  gradually  conducting 
things  so  in  the  course  of  his  providence,  that  every  one,  at  length 
and  upon  the  whole,  shall  receive  according  to  his  deserts;  and  nei- 
ther fraud  and  violence,  but  truth  and  right,  shall  finally  prevail. 
Christianity  is  a  particular  scheme  under  this  general  plan  of  Provi- 
dence, and  a  part  of  it,  conducive  to  its  completion,  with  regard  to 
mankind;  consisting  itself  also  of  various  parts,  and  a  mysterious 
economy,  which  has  been  carrying  on  from  the  time  the  world  came 
into  its  present  wretched  state,  and  is  still  carrying  on  for  its  recov- 
ery, by  a  divine  person,  the  Messiah,  who  is  to  gather  together  in  one> 

"  In  tbe  loregoing  Chapter. 
7  Part  I.  Chap,  vii,  to  vthkh  this  all  al»ng  refers. 


Chap.  IV.  imperfectly  comprehended.  145 

the  children  of  God  that  are  scattered  abroad,*  and  establish  an  ev- 
erlasting kingdom,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness.f  And  in  order 
to  it,  after  various  manifestations  of  things,  relating  to  this  great 
and  general  scheme  of  Providence,  through  a  succession  of  many 
ages:  (For  the  Spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  the  prophets,  testified 
beforehand  his  sufferings,  and  the  gl"ry  that  should  follow;  unto 
whom  it  urns  revealed,  that  not  unto  themselves,  but  unto  us  they  did 
minister  the  things  which  are  noiv  reported  unto  us  by  them  that  have 
preached  the  Gospel;  ivhich  things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into\) — 
after  various  dispensations,  looking  forward  and  preparatory  to  this 
final  salvation,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  when  infinite  wisdom  thought 
fit,  He,  being  in  the  form  of  God — made  himself  of  no  reputation^ 
and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  like- 
ness of  men;  and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  him- 
self, and  became  obedient  to  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross;  where- 
fore God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name  whick 
is  above  every  name;  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should 
bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  the  earth,  and  things  under 
the  earth;  and  that  every  tongue  should  confess,  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father.^  Parts  likewise  of  this  econ- 
omy, are  the  miraculous  mission  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  his  ordina- 
ry assistance  given  to  good  men;  the  invisible  government  which 
Christ  at  present  exercises  over  his  church;  that  which  he  himself 
refers  to  in  these  words,^  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions — 
J  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you;  and  his  future  return  to  judge  the 
tvorld  in  righteousness,  and  completely  re-establish  the  kingdom  of 
God.  For  the  Father  judgeth  no  man;  hit  hath  committed  all  judg- 
ment unto  the  Son,  that  all  men  should  honor  the  Son.  even  as  they 
honor  the  Father-W  Jill  power  is  given  unto  him  in  heaven  and  in 
earth.**  And  he  must  reign  till  he  hath  put  all  enemies  under  his  feet. 
Then  cometh  the  end,  wheji  he  shall  have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to 
God,  even  the  Father;  when  he  shall  have  put  down  all  rule,  and  all 
authority  and  power.  And  when  all  things  shall  be  subdued  unto 
him.  then  shall  the  Son  also  himself  be  subject  unto  him  that  put  all 
things  under  him,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all.^i  Now  little,  surely, 
need  be  said  to  shew  (hat  this  system  or  scheme  of  things  is  but  im- 
perfectly comprehended  by  us.  The  Scripture  expressly  asserts  it 
to  be  so.  And  indeed  one  cannot  read  a  passage"  relating  to  this 
great  mystery  of  Godliness,\\  but  what  immediately  runs  up  into 
something  which  shews  us  our  ignorance  in  it;  as  every  thing  in  na- 
ture shews  us  our  ignorance  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  And 
whoever  will  seriously  consider  that  part  of  the  Christian  scheme 
which  is  revealed  in  Scripture,  will  find  so  much  more  unreveale'i, 
as  will  convince  him,  that,  to  all  the  purposes  of  judging  and  objec- 
ting, we  know  as  little  of  it  as  of  the  constitution  of  nature.  Our 
ignorance,  therefore,  is  as  much  an  answer  to  our  objections  against 
the  perfection  of  one  as  against  the  perfection  of  the  other. §§ 

II.     It  is  obvious  too,  that  in  the  Christian  dispensation,  as  much 
as  in  the  natural  scheme  of  things,  means  are  made  use  of  to  accom- 

•Joh  xi.  52.       -j-aPet.  iii.  13        i:  1  Pet  i.  11,  12.        §Phil  ii.      t  Joh.  xvi.  3. 
i  Job.  V.  22,  S."?      •*  Matth,  xsviii.  18,   t\  1  Cor.  sy,    it  1  Tim  iii.  IG.   ^§  P.  107,  ?cc 


146  Christianity  a  Schemef  Part  II. 

plish  ends.  And  the  observation  of  this  furnishes  us  with  the  same 
answer  to  objections  against  the  perfection  of  Christianity,  as  to  ob- 
jections of  the  like  kind  against  the  constitution  of  nature.  It 
shews  the  credibility,  that  the  things  objected  against,  how  foolish* 
soever  they  appear  to  men,  may  be  the  very  best  means  of  accom- 
plishing the  very  best  ends;  and  their  appearing  foolishiiess  is  no 
presumption  against  this,  in  a  scheme  so  greatly  beyond  our  compre- 
hension f 

III.  The  credibility  that  the  Christian  dispensation  may  have 
been,  all  along,  carried  on  by  general  laws, J  no  less  than  the  course 
of  nature,  may  require  to  be  more  distinctly  made  out.  Consider 
then  upon  what  ground  it  is  we  say,  that  the  whole  common  course 
;yf  nature  is  carried  on  according  to  general  foreordained  laws.  We 
know  indeed  several  of  the  general  laws  of  matter,  and  a  great  part 
of  the  natural  behaviour  of  living  agents  is  reducible  to  general 
laws.  But  we  know  in  a  manner  nothing  by  what  laws,  storms  and 
tempests,  earthquakes,  famine,  pestilence,  become  instruments  of 
destruction  to  mankind.  And  the  laws  by  which  persons  born  into 
the  world  at  such  a  time  and  place  are  of  such  capacities,  geniuses, 
tempers;  the  laws  by  which  thoughts  come  into  our  mjnd  in  a  multi- 
tude of  cases,  and  by  which  innumerable  things  happen,  of  the  great- 
est influence  upon  the  affairs  and  state  of  the  world  ;  these  laws  are 
so  wholly  unknown  to  us,  that  we  call  the  events  which  come  to  pass 
by  them  accidental,  though  all  reasonable  men  know  certainly  that 
there  cannot,  in  reality,  be  any  such  thing  as  chance,  and  conclude 
that  the  things  which  have  this  appearance  are  the  result  of  general 
laws,  and  may  be  reduced  into  them.  It  is  then  but  an  exceeding 
little  way,  and  in  but  a  very  few  respects,  that  we  can  trace  up  the 
natural  course  of  things  before  us  to  general  laws.  And  it  is  only 
from  analogy  that  we  conclude  the  whole  of  it  to  be  capable  of  be- 
ing reduced  into  them — only  from  our  seeing  that  part  is  so.  It  18 
from  our  finding  that  the  course  of  nature,  in  some  respects  and  so 
far,  goes  on  by  general  laws,  that  we  conclude  this  of  the  rest.  And 
if  that  be  a  just  ground  for  such  a  conclusion,  it  is  a  just  ground  also, 
if  not  to  conclude,  yet  to  apprehend,  to  render  it  supposable  and 
credible,  which  is  sufficient  for  answering  objections,  that  God's  mi- 
raculous interpositions  may  have  been,  all  along  in  like  manner,  by 
general  laws  of  \;isdom.  Thus,  that  miraculous  powers  should  be 
exerted  at  such  times,  upon  such  occasions,  in  such  degrees  and 
manners,  and  with  regard  to  such  persons,  rather  than  others— that 
the  affairs  of  the  world,  being  permitted  to  go  on  in  their  natural 
course  so  far,  should,  just  at  such  a  point,  have  a  new  direction  giv- 
en them  by  miraculous  interpositions— that  these  interpositions 
should  be  exactly  in  such  degrees  and  respects  only — all  this  may 
have  been  by  general  laws.  These  laws  are  unknown  indeed  to  us, 
but  no  more  unknown  than  the  laws  from  whence  it  is,  that  some  die 
as  soon  as  they  are  born,  and  others  live  to  extreme  old  age — that 
one  man  is  so  superior  to  another  in  understanding — with  innumer- 
able more  things,  which,  as  was  before  observed,  we  cannot  reduce 
to  any  laws  or  rules  at  all,  though  it  is  taken  for  granted  they  are  as 

*  1  Cor.  i.       t^age  110.       ^  Page  III. 


Chap.  1V~.  imperfectly  comprehended.  14Z« 

much  reducible  to  general  oaes  as  gravitation.  Now,  if  the  reveal- 
ed dispensations  of  Providence,  and  miraculous  interpositions,  be 
by  general  laws,  as  well  as  God's  ordinary  government  in  the  course 
of  nature,  made  known  by  reason  and  experience — there  is  no  more 
reason  to  expect  that  every  exigence,  as  it  arises,  should  be  provi- 
ded for  by  these  general  laws  or  miraculous  interpositions,  than  that 
every  exigence  in  nature  should  by  the  general  laws  of  nature;  yet 
there  might  be  wise  and  good  reasons  that  miraculous  interpositions 
should  be  by  general  laws,  and  that  these  laws  should  not  be  broken 
in  upon,  or  deviated  from,  by  other  miracles. 

Upon  the  whole  then,  the  appearance  of  deficiences  and  irregular- 
ities in  nature  is  owing  to  its  being  a  scheme  but  in  part  made  known, 
and  of  such  a  certain  particular  kind  in  other  respects.  Now  we 
see  no  more  reason  why  the  frame  and  course  of  nature  should  be 
such  a  scheme,  than  why  Christianity  should.  And  that  the  former 
is  such  a  scheme,  renders  it  credible  that  the  latter,  upon  supposition 
of  its  truth,  may  be  so  too.  And  as  it  is  manifest  that  Christianity 
is  a  scheme  revealed  but  in  part,  and  a  scheme  in  which  means  are 
made  use  of  to  accomplish  ends,  like  to  that  of  nature— so  the  cred- 
ibility that  it  may  have  been  all  along  carried  on  by  general  laws,  no 
less  than  the  course  of  nature,  has  been  distinctly  proved.  And 
from  all  this  it  is  beforehand  credible  that  there  might,  I  think  proba- 
ble that  there  would,  be  the  like  appearance  of  deficiencies  and  ir- 
regularities in  Christianity  as  in  nature;  i.  e.  that  Christianity  would 
be  liable  to  the  like  objections  as  the  frame  of  nature.  And  these 
objections  are  answered  by  these  observations  concerning  Christian- 
ity, as  the  like  objections  against  the  frame  of  nature  are  answered 
by  the  like  observations  concerning  the  frame  of  nature. 


THE  objections  against  Christianity,  considered  as  a  matter  of 
fact,*  having  in  general  been  obviated  in  the  preceding  chapter^  and 
the  same,  considered  as  made  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
it,  having  been  obviated  in  this,  the  next  thing,  according  to  the 
method  proposed,  is  to  shew  that  the  principal  objections,  in  particu- 
lar, against  Christianity  maybe  answered  by  particular  and  full  anal^ 
ogies  in  nature.  And  as  one  of  them  is  made  against  the  whole 
scheme  of  it  together,  as  just  now  described,  I  choose  to  consider  it 
here,  rather  than  in  a  distinct  chapter  by  itself.  The  thing  objected 
against  this  scheme  of  the  Gospel  is,  "  that  it  seems  to  suppose  God 
was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  a  long  series  of  intricate  means,  in 
order  to  accomplish  his  ends,  the  recovery  and  salvation  of  the 
world;  in  like  sort  as  men,  for  want  of  understanding  or  power,  not 
being  able  to  come  at  their  ends  directly,  are  forced  to  go  rounda- 
bout ways,  and  make  use  of  many  perplexed  contrivances  to  arrive  at 
them."  Now  every  thing  which  we  see  shews  the  folly  of  this,  con- 
sidered as  an  objection  against  the  truth  of  Christianity.     For,  ac- 

*  Page  107. 


148  Christianity  a  Scheme,  Part  II. 

cording  to  our  manner  of  conception,  God  makes  use  of  variety  of 
means,  what  we  often  think  tedious  ones,  in  the  natural  course  of 
providence,  for  the  accomplishment  of  all  his  ends.  Indeed  it  is 
certain  there  is  somewhat  in  this  matter  quite  beyond  our  compre- 
hension; but  the  mystery  is  as  great  in  nature  as  in  Christianity. 
We  know  what  we  ourselves  aim  at,  as  linal  ends,  and  what  courses 
we  take,  merely  as  means  conducing  to  those  ends.  But  we  are 
greatly  ignorant  how  far  things  are  considered  by  the  Author  of  na- 
ture, under  the  single  notion  of  means  and  ends;  so  as  that  it  may 
be  said,  this  is  merely  an  end,  and  that  merely  means,  in  his  regard. 
And  whether  there  be  not  some  peculiar  absurdity  in  our  very  man- 
ner of  conception,  concerning  (his  matter,  somewhat  contradictory 
arising  from  our  extremely  imperfect  view  of  thin;;s,  it  is  impossible 
to  say.  However,  thus  much  is  manifest,  that  the  whole  natural 
world  and  government  of  it  is  a  scheme  or  system:  not  a  fixed,  but 
a  progressive  one;  a  scheme,  in  which  the  operation  of  various  means 
takes  up  a  great  length  of  time,  before  the  ends  they  tend  to  can  be 
attained.  The  change  of  seasons,  the  ripening  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,  the  very  history  of  a  flower,  is  an  instance  of  this,  and  so  is 
human  life.  Thus  vegetable  bodies,  and  those  of  animals,  though 
possibly  formed  at  once,  yet  grow  up  by  degrees  to  a  mature  state. 
And  thus  rational  agents,  who  animate  these  latter  bodies,  are  nat- 
urally directed  to  form  each  his  own  manners  and  character,  by  the 
gradual  gaining  of  knowledge  and  experience,  and  by  a  long  course 
of  action.  Our  existence  is  not  only  successive,  as  it  must  be  of  ne- 
cessity, but  one  state  of  our  life  and  being  is  appointed  by  God  to 
be  a  preparation  for  another,  and  that  to  be  the  means  of  attaining 
to  another  succeeding  one;  infancy  to  childhood,  childhood  to  youth, 
youth  to  mature  age.  Men  are  impatient,  and  for  precipitating 
things;  but  the  Author  of  nature  appears  deliberate  throughout  his 
operations,  accomplishing  his  natural  ends  by  slow  successive  steps. 
And  there  is  a  plan  of  things  beforehand  laid  out,  which,  from  the 
mature  of  it,  requires  various  systems  of  means,  as  well  as  length  of 
time,  in  order  to  the  carrying  on  its  several  parts  into  execution. 
Thus,  in  the  daily  course  of  natural  providence,  God  operates  in  the 
very  same  manner  as  in  the  dispensation  of  Christianity,  making 
v'vne  thing  subservient  to  another,  this  to  somewhat  farther,  and  so 
on,  through  a  progressive  series  of  means,  which  extend,  both  back- 
ward and  forward,  beyond  our  utmost  view.  Of  this  manner  of  op- 
eration, every  thing  we  see  in  the  course  of  nature  is  as  much  an  in 
stance,  as  any  part  of  the  Christian  dispensation. 


Chap.  V.  Appointment  of  a  Mediator,  S^c.  149 


CHAP.  Y. 


Of  the  particular  System  of  Christianity;    the  Appointment  of  a 
Mediator,  and  the  Redemption  of  the  World  by  him. 

THERE  is  not,  I  think,  any  thing  relating  to  Christianity  wliich 
has  been  more  objected  against  than  the  mediation  of  Christ,  in  some 
or  other  of  its  parts.  Yet,  upon  thorough  consideration,  there  seems 
nothing  less  justly  liable  to  it.     For, 

I.  The  whole  analogy  of  nature  removes  all  imagined  presumption 
against  the  general  notion  of  a  Mediator  between  God  and  man* 
For  we  find  all  living  creatures  are  brought  into  the  world,  and  their 
life  in  infancy  is  preserved,  by  the  instrumentality  of  others;  and 
every  satisfaction  of  it,  sori^e  way  or  other,  is  bestowed  by  the  like 
means.  So  that  the  visible  government  which  God  exercises  over 
the  world  is  by  the  instrumentality  and  mediation  of  others.  And 
how  far  his  invisible  government  be  or  be  not  so,  it  is  impossible  to 
determine  at  all  by  reason.  And  the  supposition  that  part  of  it  is 
so,  appears,  to  say  the  least,  altogether  as  credible  as  the  contrary. 
There  is  then  no  sort  of  objection,  from  the  light  of  nature,  against 
the  general  notion  of  a  mediator  between  God  and  man,  considered 
as  a  doctrine  of  Christianity,  or  as  an  appointment  in  this  dispensa- 
tion; since  we  find  by  experience  that  God  does  appoint  mediators 
to  be  the  instruments  of  good  and  evil  to  us,  the  instruments  of  his 
justice  and  his  mercy.  And  the  objection  here  referred  to  i^  urged, 
not  against  mediation  in  that  high,  eminent  and  peculiar  sgnse  in 
which  Christ  is  our  mediator,  but  absolutely  against  the  whole  notion 
itself  of  a  mediator  at  all. 

II.  As  we  must  suppose  that  the  world  is  under  the  proper  moral 
government  of  God,  or  in  a  state  of  religion,  before  we  can  enter  into 
consideration  of  the  revealed  doctrine  concerning  the  redemption  of 
it  by  Christ,  so  that  supposition  is  here  to  be  distinctly  taken  notice 
of.  Now  the  divine  moral  government  which  religion  teaches  us, 
implies  that  the  consequence  of  vice  shall  be  misery,  in  some  future 
state,  by  the  righteous  judgmennt  of  God.  That  such  consequent 
punishment  shall  take  effect  by  his  appointment,  is  necessarily  im- 
plied. But,  as  it  is  not  in  any  sort  to  be  supposed,  that  we  are  made 
acquainted  with  all  the  ends  or  reasons  for  which  it  is  fit  future  pun- 
ishments should  be  inflicted,  or  why  God  has  appointed  such  and  such 
consequent  misery  should  follow  vice,  and  as  we  are  altogether  in 
the  dark  how  or  in  what  manner  it  should  follow,  by  what  immediate 
occasions,  or  by  the  instrumentality  of  what  means,  there  is  no  ab- 
surdity in  supposing  it  may  follow  in  a  way  analogous  to  that,  ii^ 

•  1  Tim.  ii.  5. 


350  'lite  Jippointnient  of  Part  II. 

which  many  miseries  follow  such  and  such  courses  of  action  at  pres- 
ent; poverty,  sickness,  intamy,  untimely  death  by  diseases,  death 
from  the  hands  of  civil  justice.  There  is  no  absurdity  in  supposing 
luture  punishment  may  follow  wickedness  of  course,  as  we  speak,  or 
in  the  way  of  natural  consequence  from  God's  original  constitution 
of  the  world,  from  the  nature  he  has  given  us,  and  from  the  condition 
in  which  he  places  us;  or  in  a  like  manner  as  a  person  rashly  trifling 
upon  a  precipice,  in  the  way  of  natural  consequence,  falls  down;  in 
the  way  of  natural  consequence,  breaks  his  limbs,  suppose;  in  the 
way  of  natural  consequence  of  tliis,  without  help,  perishes. 

Some  good  men  may  perhaps  be  oftended,  with  hearing  it  spoken 
of  as  a  supposable  thing,  that  the  future  punishments  of  wickedness 
may  be  in  the  way  of  natural  consequence;  as  if  this  were  taking 
the  execution  of  justice  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  and  giving  it  to  na- 
ture. But  they  should  remember,  that  when  things  come  to  pass  ac- 
cording to  the  course  of  nature,  this  does  not  hinder  them  from  being 
his  doing,  who  is  the  God  of  nature;  and  that  the  Scripture  ascribes 
those  punishments  to  divine  justice  which  are  known  to  be  natural, 
and  which  must  be  called  so,  when  distinguished  from  such  as  are 
miraculous.  But  after  all,  this  supposition,  or  rather  this  way  of 
speaking,  is  here  made  use  of  only  by  way  of  illustration  of  the  sub- 
ject before  us.  For  since  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  future  pun- 
ishment of  wickedness  is  not  a  matter  of  arbitrary  appointment,  but 
of  reason,  equity  and  justice,  it  comes,  for  aught  I  see,  to  the  same 
thing,  whether  it  is  supposed  to  be  inflicted  in  a  way  analogous  to 
that  in  which  the  temporal  punishments  of  vice  and  folly  are  inflicted, 
«>r  in  any  other  way.  And  though  there  were  a  difference,  it  is  allow- 
able, in  the  present  case,  to  make  this  supposition,  plainly  not  an 
incredible  one,  that  future  punishment  may  follow  wickedness  in  the 
way  of  natural  consequence,  or  according  to  some  general  laws  of 
government  already  established  in  the  universe. 

111.  Upon  this  supposition,  or  even  without  it,  we  may  observe 
somewhat  much  to  tiie  present  purpose  in  the  constitution  of  nature 
or  appointments  of  Providence;  the  provision  which  is  made  that  ait 
the  bad  natural  consequences  of  men's  actions  should  not  always 
actually  follow;  or  that  such  bad  consequences  as,  according  to  the 
settled  course  of  things,  would  inevitably  have  followed  if  not  pre- 
vented, should  in  certain  degrees  be  prevented.  We  are  apt  pre- 
sumptuously to  imagine,  that  the  world  might  have  been  so  consti- 
tuted, as  that  there  would  not  have  been  any  such  thing  as  misery  or 
evil.  On  the  contrary  we  find  the  Author  of  nature  permits  it;  but 
then  he  has  provided  reliefs,  and,  in  many  rases  perfect  remedies  for 
it,  after  S(»me  pains  and  difficulties;  reliefs  and  remedies  even  for 
that  evil,  which  is  the  fruit  of  our  own  misconduct;  and  which,  in  the 
course  of  nature,  would  have  continued  and  ended  in  our  destruc- 
tion, but  for  such  remedies.  And  this  is  an  instance  both  of  severity 
and  indulgence,  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  Thus  all  the  bad  con- 
sequences now  mentioned,  of  a  man's  trifling  upon  a  precipice,  might 
be  prevented.  And  though  all  were  not,  yet  some  of  them  might,  by 
proper  interposition,  if  not  rejected;  by  another's  coming  to  the  rash 
man's  relief,  with  his  own  laying  hold  on  that  relief,  in  such  sort  as 
the  case  required.     Persons  may  do  a  great  deal  themselves  towards 


t/HAP.  V,  a  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  -      151 

preventing  the  bad  consequences  of  their  follies;  and  more  may  be 
done  by  themselves,  together  with  the  assistance  of  others  their  fel- 
low creatures;  which  assistance  nature  requires  and  prompts  us  to. 
This  is  the  general  constitution  of  the  world.  Now  suppose  it  had 
been  so  constituted,  that  after  such  actions  were  done  as  were  fore- 
seen naturally  to  draw  after  them  misery  to  the  doer,  it  should  have 
been  no  more  in  human  power  to  have  prevented  that  naturally  con- 
sequent misery,  in  any  instance,  than  it  is  in  all— no  one  can  say 
whether  such  a  more  severe  constitution  of  things  might  not  yet  have 
been  really  good.  But  that,  on  the  contrary,  provision  is  made  by 
nature,  that  we  may  and  do  to  so  great  degree  prevent  the  bad  nat- 
ural effects  of  our  follies — this  may  be  called  mercy  or  compassion  in 
the  original  constitution  of  the  world;  compassion  as  distinguished 
from  goodnes  in  general.  And,  the  whole  known  constitution  and 
course  of  things  aftbrding  us  instances  of  such  compassion,  it  vvould 
be  according  to  the  analogy  of  nature  to  hope,  that,  however  ruinous 
the  natural  consequences  of  vice  might  be,  from  the  general  laws  of 
God's  government  over  the  universe — yet  provision  might  be  made, 
possibly  might  have  been  originally  made,  for  preventing  those  ruin- 
ous consequences  from  inevitably  following;  at  least  from  followin»- 
universally,  and  in  all  cases. 

Many,  I  am  sensible,  will  wonder  at  finding  this  made  a  question, 
or  spoken  of  as  in  any  degree  doubtful.  The  generality  of  mankind 
are  so  far  from  having  that  awful  sense  of  things,  which  the  present, 
state  of  vice  and  misery  and  darkness  seems  to  make  but  reasonable, 
that  they  have  scarce  any  apprehension  or  thought  at  all  about  this 
matter  any  way;  and  some  serious  persons  may  have  spoken  unad- 
visedly concerning  it.  But  let  us  observe  what  we  experience  to  be, 
and  what  from  the  very  constitution  of  nature  cannot  but  be,  the  con- 
sequences of  irregular  and  disorderly  behaviour;  even  of  such  rash- 
ness, wilfulness,  neglects,  as  we  scarce  call  vicious.  Now  it  is  nat- 
ural to  apprehend,  that  the  bad  consequences  of  irregularity  will  be 
greater  in  proportion  as  the  irregularity  is  so.  And  there  is  no  com- 
parison between  these  irregularities,  and  the  greater  instances  of  vice, 
or  a  dissolute  profligate  disregard  to  all  religion,  if  there  be  any 
thing  at  all  in  religion.  For  consider  what  it  is  for  creatures,  moral 
agents,  presumptuously  to  introduce  that  confusion  and  misery  into 
the  kingdom  of  God,  which  mankind  have  in  fact  introduced — io 
blaspheme  the  sovereign  Lord  of  all — to  contemn  his  authority — to 
be  injurious  to  the  degree  they  are,  to  their  fellow  creatures,  the  crea- 
tures of  God.  Add  that  the  effects  of  vice  in  the  present  world  are 
often  extreme  misery,  irretrievable  ruin,  and  even  death;  and  upon 
putting  all  this  together  it  will  appear,  that  as  no  one  can  say  in 
what  degree  fatal  the  unprevented  consequences  of  vice  may  be,  ac- 
cording to  the  general  rule  of  divine  government,  so  it  is  by  no  means 
intuitively  certain  how  far  these  consequences  could  possibly,  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing,  be  prevented,  consistently  with  the  eternal  rule 
of  right,  or  with  what  is  in  fact  the  moral' constitution  of  nature. 
However,  there  would  be  large  ground  to  hope  that  the  universal 
government  was  not  so  severely  strict  but  that  there  was  room  for 
panlon,  or  for  having  those  penal  consequences  prevented.     V  et, 

IV.  There  seems  no  probability  that  any  thing  we  could  do  would 


15i  The  Appointment  of  Paut  If. 

alone  and  of  itself  prevent  them;  prevent  their  following  or  beiugj 
inflicted.  But  one  would  think,  at  least,  it  were  impossible  that  the 
contrary  should  be  thought  certain.  For  we  are  not  acquainted  with 
the  whole  of  the  case.  We  are  not  informed  of  all  the  reasons  which 
render  it  fit  that  future  punishments  should  be  inflicted,  and  there- 
fore cannot  know  whether  anything  we  could  do  would  make  such 
an  alteration  as  to  render  it  fit  that  they  should  be  remitted.  We 
do  not  know  what  the  whole  natural  or  appointed  consequences  of 
vice  are,  nor  in  what  way  they  would  follow,  if  not  prevented;  and 
therefore  can  in  no  sort  say,  whether  we  could  do  any  thing  which 
would  be  sufficient  to  prevent  them.  Our  ignorance  being  thus  man- 
ifest, let  us  recollect  the  analogy  of  nature  or  Providence.  For, 
though  this  may  be  but  a  slight  ground  to  raise  a  positive  opinion 
upon  in  this  matter,  yet  it  is  sufficient  to  answer  a  mere  arbitrary 
assertion,  without  any  kind  of  evidence,  urged  by  way  of  objection 
against  a  doctrine,  the  proof  of  which  is  not  reason  but  revelation. 
Consider  then — people  ruin  their  fortunes  by  extravagance;  they 
bring  diseases  upon  themselves  by  excess;  they  incur  the  penalties 
of  civil  laws,  and  surely  civil  government  is  natural;  will  sorrow  for 
these  follies  past,  and  behaving  well  for  the  future,  alone  and  of 
itself  prevent  the  natural  consequences  of  them?  On  the  contrary, 
men's  natural  abilities  of  helping  themselves  are  often  impaired;  or 
if  not,  yet  they  are  forced  to  be  beholden  to  the  assistance  of  others, 
upon  several  accounts  and  in  difterent  ways;  assistance  which  they 
would  have  had  no  occasion  forbad  it  not  been  for  their  misconduct, 
but  which,  in  the  disadvantageous  condition  they  have  reduced  them- 
selves to,  is  absolutely  necessary  to  their  recovery,  and  retrieving 
their  affairs.  Now  since  this  is  our  case,  considering  ourselves  merely 
as  inhabitants  of  this  world,  and  as  having  a  temporal  interest  here, 
under  the  natural  government  of  God,  which  however  has  a  great 
deal  moral  in  it — why  is  it  not  supposable  that  this  may  be  our  case 
also  in  our  more  important  capacity,  as  under  his  perfect  mora!  gov- 
ernment, and  having  a  more  general  and  future  interest  dependingr 
Ifwe  have  misbehaved  in  this  higher  capacity,  and  rendered  out- 
selves  obnoxious  to  the  future  punishment  which  God  has  annexed  to 
vice,  it  is  plainly  credible,  that  behaving  well  for  the  time  to  come, 
may  be — not  useless,  God  forbid — but  wholly  insuflicient,  alone  and 
of  itself,  to  prevent  that  punishment,  or  to  put  us  in  the  condition 
which  we  should  have  been  in  had  we  preserved  our  innocence. 

And  though  we  ought  to  reason  with  all  reverence,  whenever  we 
reason  concerning  the  divine  conduct,  yet  it  may  be  added,  that  it  is 
clearly  contrary  to  all  our  notions  of  government,  ns  well  as  to  what 
is  in  fact  the  general  constitution  of  nature,  to  suppose  that  doing 
well  for  the  future  should,  in  all  cases  prevent  all  the  judicial  bad 
consequences  of  having  done  evil,  or  all  the  punishment  annexed  to 
disobedience.  And  we  have  manifestly  nothing  from  whence  to  de- 
termine, in  what  degree  and  in  what  cases  reformation  would  pre- 
vent this  punishment,  even  supposing  that  it  would  in  some.  And 
though  the  efficacy  of  repentance  itself  alone,  to  prevent  what  man- 
kind had  rendered  themselves  obnoxious  to,  and  recover  what  they 
had  forfeited,  is  now  insisted  upon  in  opposition  to  Christianity- 
jet,  bv  the  general  prevalence  of  propitiatory  sacrifices  over  the 


Chap.  V.  a  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  1.53 

heathen  world,  this  notion  of  repentance  alone  being  sufficient  to  ex- 
piate guilt,  appears  to  be  contrary  to  the  general  sense  of  mankind. 

Upon  the  whole  then,  had  the  laws,  the  general  laws  of  God's  gov- 
ernment been  permitted  to  operate,  without  any  interposition  in  our 
behalf,  the  future  punishment,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  contrary,  or 
have  any  reason  to  think,  must  inevitably  have  followed,  notwith- 
standing any  thing  we  could  have  done  to  prevent  it.     Now, 

V.  In  this  darkness,  or  this  light  of  nature,  call  it  which  you  please, 
revelation  comes  in — confirms  every  doubting  fear,  which  could  enter 
into  the  heart  of  man,  concerning  the  future  unprevented  conse- 
quence of  wickedness — supposes  the  world  to  be  in  a  state  of  ruin — 
(a  supposition  which  seems  the  very  ground  of  the  Christian  dispen- 
sation, and  which,  if  not  proveable  by  reason,  yet  it  is  in  no  wise 
contrary  to  it)  teaches  us  too,  that  the  rules  of  divine  government 
are  such  as  not  to  admit  of  pardon  immediately  and  directly  upoa 
repentance,  or  by  the  sole  efficacy  of  it;  but  then  teaches  at  the  same 
time  what  nature  might  justly  have  hoped,  that  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  the  universe  was  not  so  rigid,  but  that  there  was  room  for  an 
interposition  to  avert  the  fatal  consequences  of  vice,  which  therefore 
by  this  means  does  admit  of  pardon.  Revelation  teaches  us,  that  the 
unknown  laws  of  God's  more  general  government,  no  less  than  the 
particular  laws  by  which  we  experience  he  governs  us  at  present,  are 
compassionate,*  as  well  as  good  in  the  more  general  notion  of  good- 
ness; and  that  he  hath  mercifully  provided  that  there  should  be  an 
interposition  to  prevent  the  destruction  of  human  kind,  whatever 
that  destruction  unprevented  would  have  been.  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son^  that  whosoever  believeth, 
not  to  be  sure  in  a  speculative,  but  in  a  practical  sense,  that  whoso" 
ever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish;\  gave  his  Son  in  the  same 
way  of  goodness  to  the  world  as  he  aflbrds  particular  persons  the 
friendly  assistance  of  their  fellow  creatures,  wheh  without  it  their 
temporal  ruin  would  be  the  certain  consequence  of  their  follies;  in 
the  same  way  of  goodness,  I  say,  though  in  a  transcendent  and  infi- 
nitely higher  degree.  And  the  Son  of  God  loved  ms  and  gave  himself 
for  us,  with  a  love  which  he  himself  compares  to  that  of  human 
friendship,  though  in  this  case  all  comparisons  must  fall  infinitely 
short  of  the  thing  intended  to  be  illustrated  by  them.  He  interposed 
in  such  a  manner,  as  was  necessary  and  effectual  to  prevent  that  exe- 
cution of  justice  upon  sinners,  which  God  had  appointed  should  other- 
wise have  been  executed  upon  them;  or  in  sucn  a  manner  as  to  pre- 
vent that  punishment  from  actually  following,  which,  according  to 
the  general  laws  of  divine  government,  must  have  followed  the  sins 
of  the  world,  had  it  not  been  for  such  interposition.:}; 

•  Page  1 50,  &c.        t  John  iii.  1 6. 

t  It  cannot,  I  suppose,  be  imagined,  even  by  the  most  cursory  reader,  that  it  is  ia 
any  sort  affirmed  or  implied  in  any  thing  said  in  this  chapter,  that  none  can  have  the 
benefit  of  the  general  Redemption  but  such  as  have  the  advantage  of  being  made  ac- 
quainted Tvith  it  in  the  present  life  But  it  may  he  needful  to  mention,  that  several 
questions  which  have  been  brought  ir.to  the  subject  before  us,  and  determined,  ai'e  not 
in  the  least  entered  into  here;  questions  -which  have  been,  I  fear,  rashly  determined, 
and  perhaps  with  equal  rashness  contrary  ways.  For  instance,  whether  God  could  have 
saved  the  world  by  other  means  than  the  death  of  Christ,  consistently  with  the  general, 
laws  of  his  governmerit.    And  had  not  Christ  come  into  the  world,  what  would  have^ 

u 


154  I'lie  Appointment  of  Part  \I, 

If  any  thing  here  said  should  appear,  upon  first  thought,  inconsist- 
ent with  divine  goodness,  a  second,  I  am  persuaded,  will  entirely 
remove  that  appearance.  For  were  we  to  suppose  the  constitution 
of  things  to  he  such  as  that  the  whole  creation  must  have  perished, 
had  it  not  heen  for  somewhat,  which  God  had  appointed  should  be,  in 
order  to  prevent  that  ruin — even  this  supposition  would  not  be  incon- 
sistent in  any  degree  with  the  most  absolutely  perfect  goodness.  But 
still  it  may  be  thought,  that  this  whole  manner  of  treating  the  sub* 
ject  before  us  supposes  mankind  to  be  naturally  in  a  very  strange 
state.  And  truly  so  it  does.  But  it  is  not  Christianity  which  has 
put  us  into  this  state.  Whoever  will  consider  the  manifold  miseries, 
and  the  extreme  wickedness  of  the  world,  that  the  best  have  great 
wrongnesses  within  themselves,  which  they  complain  of  and  endeavor 
to  amend,  but  that  the  generality  grow  more  profligate  and  corrupt 
with  age;  that  heathen  moralists  thought  the  present  state  to  be  a 
state  of  punishment;  and  what  might  be  added,  that  the  earth  our 
habitation  has  the  appearances  of  being  a  ruin; — whoever,  I  say,  will 
consider  all  these,  and  some  other  obvious  things,  will  think  he  has 
little  reason  to  object  against  the  scripture  account,  that  mankind  is 
in  a  state  of  degradation;  against  this  being  the  fact,  how  diflicult 
soever  he  may  think  it  to  account  for,  or  even  to  form  a  distinct  con- 
ception of  the  occasions  and  circumstances  of  it.  But  that  the  crime 
of  our  first  parents  was  the  occasion  of  our  being  plac«d  in  a  more 
disadvantageous  condition,  is  a  thing  throughout  and  particularly  au 
alogous  to  what  we  see  in  the  daily  course  of  natural  providence;  as 
the  recovery  of  the  world  by  the  interposition  of  Cnrist  has  been 
shewn  to  be  so  in  general. 

V[.  The  particular  manner  in  which  Christ  interposed  in  the  re- 
demption of  the  world,  or  his  office  as  mediator,  in  the  largest  sense, 
between  God  and  man,  is  thus  represented  to  us  in  the  Scripture. 
He  is  the  liglit  of  the  world;*  the  revealer  of  the  will  of  God  in  the 
most  eminent  sense.  He  is  a  propitiatory  sacrifice;!  The  Lamb  of 
God;^  and,  as  he  voluntarily  offered  himself  up,  he  is  stiled  our 
high  priest. §  And,  which  seems  of  peculiar  weight,  be  is  described 
beforehand  in  the  Old  Testament,  under  the  same  characters  of  a 
priest,  and  an  expiatory  victim. |)  And  whereas  it  is  objected,  that 
all  this  is  merely  by  way  of  allusion  to  the  sacrifices  of  the  Mosaick 
law,  the  apostle  on  the  contrary  aflirms,  that  the  law  was  a  shadow 
of  good  things  to  come,  and  not  the  very  image  of  the  things;"^  and 
that  the  priests  that  offer  gifts  according  to  the  law — serve  unto  the 
example  and  shadow  of  heavenly  things,  as  Moses  ivas  admonished 

been  the  future  condition  of  the  better  sort  of  men,  those  just  persons  over  the  face  of 
the  earth,  for  whom  Manasses  in  his  prayer  asserts,  repentance  was  not  appointed. 
The  meaning  of  the  first  of  these  questions  is  greatly  ambiguous;  and  neither  ot  them 
can  proj)erly  be  answered,  without  going  upon  that  infinitely  absurd  supposition,  that 
we  know  the  whole  ot  the  case.  And  perhaps  the  very  inquiry,  what  would  have  fol- 
lowed if  God  had  not  done  as  he  has,  ma)' have  in  it  some  very  great  impropriety, 
and  ought  not  to  be  carried  on  any  farther  than  is  necessary  to  help  our  partial  and  in- 
adequate conceptions  of  things. 

•  John  i  and  viii  12.  f  Rom.  iii.  25,  and  v.  11.  1  Cor  v.  7.  Eph  v  2.  1  John  ii.  2. 
Matth  xxvi.  28.  i  John  i  29,  36,  and  throughout  the  book  of  Revelat  ion. 

§  Throughout  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  !1  Isai  liii.  Dan,  ix.  24,  Ps  ex  4. 

7  Heb.  K.  1. 


Chap.  V.  a  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  155 

of  God,  when  he  was  about  to  make  the  tabernacle.  For  see,  saith 
he,  that  thou  make  all  things  according  to  the  pattern  shelved  to  thee 
in  the  mount;*  i.e.  the  Levitical  priesthowl  was  a  shadow  of  the 
priesthood  of  Christ,  in  like  manner  as  the  tahernacle  made  by  tVb- 
i'es,  was  according  to  that  shewed  him  ipthe  jinount.  The  priest- 
hood of  Christ,  and  the  tabernacle  in  the  inoii_tj.t,  were  the  originals; 
of  the  former  of  which  the  Levitical  priesthood  was  a  type^  and  of 
the  latter  the  tabernacle  made  by  Moses  was  a  copy.  The  doctrine 
of  this  epistle  tiien  plainly  is.  that  the  legal  sacrifices  were  allusions 
to  the  great  and  final  atonement,  to  be  made  by  the  blood  of  Christ; 
and  not  that  this  was  an  allusion  to  those.  Nor  can  any  thing  ba 
more  express  or  determinate,  than  the  folIo\ying  passage.  Itisnot 
possible  that  the  blood  of  bidls  and  of  goats  should  take  nway  sin. 
Wherefore  when  he  cometh  into  the  world,  he  saith.  sacrifice  and  of- 
fering, i.  e.  of  bulls  and  of  goats,  thou  woiddest  not, .put  a  body  hast 
thou  prepared  me — Lo  I  come  to  do  thy  will  0  God— By  whi'^h  ivill 
ice  are  sanctified,  through  the  offering  of  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ 
once  for  all.\  And  to  add  one  passage  more  of  the  like  kind — 
Christ  was  mce  offered  to.  bear  the  sins  of  many,  and  unto  them  that 
look  for  him  shall  he  appear  the  second  time,  without  sin.  i.  e,  with- 
out bearing  sin  as  he  did  at  his  first  coming,  by  being  an  oiTering  for 
it,  without  having  our  iniquities  again  laid  upon  him,  without  being 
any  more  a  sin  offering; — unto  them  that  look  for  him  shall  he  appear 
the  second  time,  without  sin,  unto  salvation  {  Nor  do  the  inspired 
writers  at  all  confine  themselves  to  this  manner  of  speaking  con- 
cerning the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  but  declare  an  efficacy  in  what  he 
did  and  suffered  for  us,  additional  to  and  beyond  mere  instruction, 
example  and  government,  in  great  variety  of  expression:  That  Jesus 
should  die  for  that  natioti  the  Jews;  cnid  not  for  that  nation  only, 
but  that  aZsoj  plaini  y  by  the  efficacy  of  his  death,  he  should  gather 
together  in  one,  the  children  of  God  that  ivere  scattered  abroad;^ 
that  he  suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  unjust;'}  tha.t  he  gave  his 
life,  himself  a  ransom;^  that  we  are  bought,  boiight  with  a  price;** 
that  he  redeemed  us  with  his  blood;  redeemed  ns  from  the  curse  of 
the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for  us;i-\  that  he  is  our  advocate,  inter- 
cessor and  propitiation ;\\  that  he  was  made  perfect,  or  consummate, 
through  sufferings;  and  being  thus  made  perfect,  he  became  the  au- 
thor of  salvation;§§  that  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  ivorld 
to  himself,  by  the  death  of  his  Son,  by  the  cross,  not  imputing  their 
trespasses  unto  them;^!  |j  and  lastly,  that  through  death  he  destroyed 
him  that  had  the  power  of  death.%^  Christ  then  having  thus  hum- 
bled himself,  and  become  obedient  to  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross, 
God  also  hath  highly  eo:idied  him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is 
above  every  name;  hath  given  all  things  into  his  hands;  hath  com- 
mitted all  judgment  unto  him;  that  all  men  should  honor  the  Son 
even  as  they  honor  the  Father.***    For,  worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was 

*  Heb.  Tiii.  4,  5  f  Heb-  x.  4,  5,  7,  9, 10  t  Heb  ix  CS.  §  Job.  xi.  51,  52. 
SI  Pet  iii  18.  ^  Matth  xx.  28  Alarkx.  45  1  Tim  ii  6  ••  £  Pet.  ii.  I.  Rev. 
xiv  4  I  Cor.  vi.  20  fj- 1  Pet.  i.  19  Rev.  v.  9  GhI  iii.  l.^-  t±  Heb.  vii  25. 
IJoh  ii  1  2.  §§Heb  ii  10,antlv  9  l!i|2Cor  v  19  Rom.  v  10  Eph  ii  16. 
•^  Heb.  ii  14.  See  alsoa  remarkable  passage  in  theUookof  Job,  x.\xiLi.  24,  **•  Plul. 
ii.  8,  9.    Joh.  iii.  35,  and  v,  22,  23. 


156  '        The  Appointment  of  Part  II. 

slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and 
honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing.  And  every  creature  which  is  in 
heaven,  and  on  the  earth,  heard  I,  saying,  Blessing,  and  honor,  and 
glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto 
the  Lamb  for  ever  and  eveir.*  ' 

These  passages  of  Scripture  seem  to  comprehend  and  express  the 
chief  parts  of  Christ's  office,  as  mediator  between  God  and  man.  so 
far,  I  mean,  as  the  nature  of  this  his  office  is  rcvealedj  and  it  is  usu- 
ally treated  of  by  divines  under  three  heads. 

First,  he  was,  by  way  of  eminence,  the  prophet;  that  prophet  that 
should  come  into  the  tvorld,]  to  declare  the  divine  will.  He  pub- 
lished anew  the  law  of  nature  which  men  had  corrupted,  and  the 
very  knowledge  of  which,  to  some  degree,  was  lost  among  them. 
He  taught  mankind,  taught  us  authoritatively,  to  live  soberly,  right- 
eously and  godly  in  this  present  world,  in  eicpectation  of  the  future 
judgment  of  God.  He  confirmed  the  truth  of  this  moral  system  of 
nature,  and  gave  us  additional  evidence  of  it,  the  evidence  of  testi- 
mony.! He  distinctly  revealed  the  manner  in  which  God  would  be 
worshipped,  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  and  tlie  rewards  and  punish- 
ments of  a  future  life.  Thus  he  was  a  prophet  in  a  sense  in  which 
no  other  ever  was.  To  which  is  to  be  added,  that  he  set  us  a  perfect 
example,  that  ice  should  follow  his  steps. 

Secondly,  he  has  a  kingdom  mhich  is  not  of  this  world.  He  foun- 
ded a  church,  to  be  to  mankind  a  standing  memorial  of  religion,  and 
invitation  to  it,  which  he  promised  to  be  with  always  even  to  the 
end.  He  exercises  an  invisible  government  over  it  himself,  and 
by  his  Spirit;  over  that  part  of  it  which  is  militant  here  on 
earth,  a  government  of  discipline, /or  the  perfecting  of  the  saints, 
for  the  edifying  his  body,  till  tee  all  come,  in  the  unity  of  the 
faith,  and  of  the  knoicledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ.^  Of  this 
church,  all  persons  scattei'ed  over  the  world,  who  live  in  obedience 
to  his  laws,  are  members.  For  these  he  is  '  gone  to  prepare  a  place, 
and  will  come  again  to  receive  them  unto  himself,  that  where  he  is 
there  they  may  be  also — and  reign  with  him  for  cvor  and  ever;'|)  and 
likewise  '  to  take  vengeance  on  them  that  know  not  God,  and  obey 
not  his  Gospel. 'If 

Against  these  parts  of  Christ's  office,  I  find  no  objections  but  what 
are  fully  obviated  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter. 

Lastly,  Christ  otfered  himself  a  propitiatory  sacrifice,  and  made 
atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  world;  which  is  mentioned  last  in  re- 
gard to  what  is  objected  against  it.  Sacrifices  of  expiation  were 
commanded  the  Jews,  and  obtained  aincmgstmost  other  nations  from 
tradition,  whose  original  probably  was  revelation.  And  they  were 
continually  repeated,  both  occasionally,  and  at  the  returns  of  stated 
times,  and  made  up  great  part  of  the  external  religion  of  mankind. 
But  now  once  in  the  end  of  the  u'orld  Christ  appeared  to  put  away 
sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself**  And  this  sacrifice  \yas,  in  the  high- 
est degree  and  with  the  most  extensive  influence,  of  that  efficacy  for 

•Rev.v.12,  13.  fJohvi.U.  tPageT2l,  Sec.  C,  Eph.  iv.  12, 13.  flJoU 
jiriv.  2,  S.     Rev.  iii.  2i,  .sud  xi  !">.        f  2  Thess.  t.  8.        •«  Heb.  ix.  25. 


Chap.  V.  a  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  157 

obtaining  pardon  of  sin,  which  the  heathens  may  be  supposed  to  have 
thought  their  sacrifices  to  have  been,  and  which  the  Jewish  sacrifices 
really  were  in  some  degree,  and  with  regard  to  some  persons. 

How  and  in  what  particular  way  it  had  this  efficacy,  there  are  not 
"wanting  persons  who  have  endeavored  to  explain;  but  I  do  not  find 
that  the  ocripture  has  explained  it.  We  seem  to  be  very  much  in 
the  dark  concerning  the  manner  in  which  the  ancients  understood 
atonement  to  be  made,  i.  e.  pardon  to  be  obtained  by  sacrifices.  And 
if  the  Scripture  has,  as  surely  it  has,  left  this  matter  of  the  satisfac- 
tion of  Christ  mysterious,  left  somewhat  in  it  unrevealed,  all  conjec- 
tures about  it  must  be,  if  not  evidently  absurd,  yet  at  least  uncer- 
tain. Nor  has  any  one  reason  to  complain  for  want  of  farther  in- 
formation, unless  he  can  shew  his  claim  to  it. 

Some  having  endeavored  to  explain  the  eflicacy  of  what  Christ 
has  done  and  suffered  for  us,  beyond-  what  the  Scripture  has  author- 
ized, others,  probably  because  they  could  not  explain  it,  have  been 
for  taking  it  away,  and  confining  his  office  as  redeemer  of  the  world 
to  his  instruction,  example  and  government  of  the  church.  Where- 
as the  doctrine  of  the  gospel  appears  to  be,  not  only  that  he  taught 
the  efficacy  of  repentance,  but  rendered  it  of  the  efficacy  which 
it  is  by  what  he  did  and  suffered  for  us;  that  he  obtained  for 
us  the  benefit  of  having  our  repentance  accepted  unto  eternal 
life;  not  only  that  he  revealed  to  sinners  that  they  were  in  a  capaci- 
ty of  salvation,  and  how  they  might  obtain  it,  but  moreover  that  he 
put  them  into  this  capacity  of  salvation  by  what  he  did  and  suffered 
for  them;  put  us  into  a  capacity  of  escaping  future  punishment, 
and  obtaining  future  happiness.  And  it  is  our  wisdom  thankful- 
ly to  accept  the  benefit,  by  performing  the  conditions  upon  which 
it  is  offered  on  our  part,  without  disputing  how  it  was  procured  on 
his.     For, 

VII.  Since  we  neither  know  by  what  means  punishment  in  a  fu- 
ture state  would  have  followed  wickedness  in  this;  nor  in  what  man- 
ner it  would  have  been  inflicted  had  it  not  been  prevented;  nor  all 
the  reasons  why  its  infliction  would  have  been  needful;  nor  the  par- 
ticular nature  of  that  state  of  happiness  which  Christ  is  gone  to  pre- 
pare for  his  disciples;  and  since  we  are  ignorant  how  far  any  thing 
which  we  could  do  would,  alone  and  of  itself,  have  been  effectual  to 
prevent  that  punishment  to  which  we  were  obnoxious,  and  recover 
that  happiness  which  we  had  forfeited — it  is  most  evident  we  ai-e  not 
judges  antecedently  to  revelation,  whether  a  mediator  was  or  was 
not  necessary  to  obtain  those  ends,  to  prevent  that  future  punish- 
ment, and  bring  mankind  to  the  final  happiness  of  their  nature. 
And  for  the  very  same  reasons,  upon  supposition  of  the  necessity  of  a 
mediator,  we  are  no  more  judges  antecedently  to  revelation,  of  the 
whole  nature  of  his  office,  or  the  several  parts  of  which  it  consists, 
of  what  was  fit  and  requisite  to  be  assigned  him,  in  order  to  accom- 
plish the  ends  of  divine  Providence  in  the  appointment.  And  from 
hence  it  follows,  that  to  object  against  the  expediency  or  usefulness 
of  particular  things,  revealed  to  have  been  done  or  suffered  by  him, 
because  we  do  not  see  how  they  were  conducive  to  those  ends,  is 
highly  absurd.  Yet  nothing  is  more  common  to  be  met  with  than 
■his  absurdity.    But  if  it  be  acknowledged  beforehand  that  we  are 


158  The  Appointment  of  Paet  II. 

not  judges  in  the  case,  it  is  evident  that  no  objection  can,  with  any 
shadow  of  reason,  be  urged  against  any  particular  part  of  Christ's 
mediatorial  office  revealed  in  Scripture,  till  it  can  be  shewn  positive- 
ly not  to  be  requisite  or  conducive  to  the  ends  proposed  to  be  accom' 
plished,  or  that  it  is  in  itself  unreasonable. 

And  there  is  one  objection  made  against  the  satisfaction  of  Christ, 
which  looks  to  be  of  this  positive  kind,  that  the  doctrine  of  his  being 
appointed  to  suffer  for  tlie  sins  of  the  world,  represents  God  as  being 
indifferent  whether  he  punished  the  innocent  or  the  guilty.  Now 
from  the  foregoing  observations  we  may  see  the  extreme  slightness 
of  all  such  objections;  and  (though  it  is  most  certain  all  who  make 
them  do  not  see  the  consequence)  that  they  conclude  altogether  as 
much  against  God's  whole  original  constitution  of  nature,  and  the  whole 
daily  course  of  divine  Providence  in  the  government  of  the  world,  i.  e. 
against  the  whole  scheme  of  theism,  and  the  whole  notion  of  reli- 
gion, as  against  Christianity.  For  the  world  is  a  constitution  or 
system,  whose  parts  have  a  mutual  reference  to  each  other;  and  there 
is  a  scheme  of  things  gradually  carrying  on,  called  the  course  of  na- 
ture, to  the  carrying  on  of  which  God  has  appointed  us,  in  various 
ways,  to  contribute.  And  when,  in  the  daily  course  of  natural 
providence,  it  is  appointed  that  innocent  people  should  suffer  for  the 
faults  of  the  guilty,  this  is  liable  to  the  very  same  objection  as  the  in- 
stance we  are  now  considering.  The  infinitely  greater  importance 
of  that  appointment  of  Christianity  which  is  objected  against,  does 
not  hinder  but  it  may  be,  as  it  plainly  is,  an  appointment  of  the  very 
same  kind  with  what  the  world  afltbrds  us  daily  examples  of.  Nay, 
if  there  were  any  force  at  all  ifl  the  objection,  it  would  be  stronger 
in  one  respect  against  natural  providence  than  against  Christianity; 
because  under  the  former  we  are  in  many  cases  commanded,  and 
even  necessitated  whether  we  will  or  not,  to  suffer  for  the  faults  of 
others — whereas  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were  voluntary.  The 
xvorld's  being  under  the  righteous  government  of  God  dees  indeed 
imply  that,  finaHy  and  upon  the  whole,  every  one  shall  receive  ac- 
cording to  his  personal  deserts;  and  the  general  doctrine  of  the 
whole  Scripture  is,  that  this  shall  be  the  completion  of  the  divine 
government.  But  during  the  progress,  and  for  aught  we  know  even 
m  order  to  the  completion  of  this  moral  scheme,  vicarious  punish- 
ments may  be  fit,  and  absolutely  necessary.  Men  by  their  follies 
run  themselves  into  extreme  distress,  into  difficulties  which  would  be 
absolutely  fatal  to  them,  were  it  not  for  the  interposition  and  assis- 
tance of  others.  God  commands  by  the  law  of  nature,  that  we  af- 
ford them  this  assistance,  in  many  cases  where  we  cannot  do  it  with- 
out very  great  pains,  and  labor,  and  sufferings  to  ourselves.  And 
we  see  in  what  variety  of  ways  one  person's  sufferings  contribute  to 
the  relief  of  another;  and  how,  or  by  what  particular  means,  this 
comes  to  pass  or  follows,  from  the  constitution  and  laws  of  nature 
which  come  under  our  notice;  and  being  familiarized  to  it  men  are 
not  shocked  with  it.  So  that  the  reason  of  their  insisting  upon  ob- 
jections of  the  foregoing  kind  against  the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  is, 
either  that  thej  do  not  consider  Ciod's  settled  and  uniform  appoint- 
ments as  his  appointments  at  all,  or  else  they  forget  that  vicarious 
punishment  is  a  providential  appointment  of  every  day's  experience? 


Chap.  V.  a  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  159 

and  then,  from  their  being  unacquainted  with  the  more  general  laws 
of  nature  or  divine  government  over  the  world,  and  not  seeing  how 
the  sufferings  of  Christ  could  contribute  to  the  redemption  of  it,  un- 
less by  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  will — they  conclude  his  sufferings 
could  not  contribute  to  it  any  other  way.  And  yet,  what  has  beeu 
often  alleged  in  justification  of  this  doctrine,  even  from  the  apparent 
natural  tendency  of  this  method  of  our  redemption;  its  tendency  to 
vindicate  the  authority  of  God's  laws,  and  deter  his  creatures  from 
sin — this  has  never  yet  been  answered,  and  is  1  think  plainly  unan- 
swerable, though  I  am  far  from  thinking  it  an  account  of  the  whole 
of  the  case.  But  without  taking  this  into  consideration,  it  abundant- 
ly appears  from  the  observations  above  made,  that  this  objection  is 
not  an  objection  against  Christianity,  but  against  the  whole  general 
constitution  of  nature.  And  if  it  were  to  be  considered  as  an  ob- 
jection against  Christianity,  or  considering  it  as  it  is,  an  objection 
against  the  constitution  of  nature — it  amounts  to  no  more  in  conclu- 
sion than  this,  that  a  divine  appointment  cannot  be  necessary  or  ex- 
pedient, because  the  objector  does  not  discern  it  to  be  so,  though  he 
must  own  that  the  nature  of  the  case  is  such,  as  renders  him  unca- 
pable  of  judging  whether  it  be  so  or  not,  or  of  seeing  it  to  be  neces- 
sary, though  it  were  so. 

It  is  indeed  a  matter  of  great  patience  to  reasonable  men,  to  find 
people  arguing  in  this  manner,  objecting  against  the  credibility  of 
such  particular  things  revealed  in  Scripture,  that  ihey  do  not  see  the 
necessity  or  expediency  of  them.  For  th<»ugh  it  is  highly  i  Jght,  and 
the  most  pious  exercise  of  our  understanding,  to  inquire  with  due 
reverence  into  the  ends  and  reasons  of  God's  dispensations— yet 
when  those  reasons  are  concealed,  to  argue  from  our  ignorance  that 
such  dispensations  cannot  be  from  God,  is  infinitely  absurd. 
The  presumption  of  this  kind  of  objections  seems  almost  lost  in  the 
folly  of  them-  And  the  folly  of  them  is  yet  greater,  when  they  are 
urged,  as  usually  they  are,  against  things  in  Christianity  analogous 
or  like  to  those  natural  dispensations  of  Providence  which  are  mat- 
ter of  experience.  Let  reason  be  kept  to;  and  if  any  part  of  the 
scripture  account  of  the  redemption  of  the  world  by  Christ  can  be 
shewn  to  be  really  contrary  to  it,  let  the  Scripture,  in  the  name  of 
God,  be  given  up;  but  let  not  such  poor  creatures  as  we,  go  on  ob- 
jecting against  an  infinite  scheme,  that  we  do  not  see  the  necessity 
or  usefulness  of  all  its  parts,  and  call  this  reasoning;  and,  which 
still  farther  heightens  the  absurdity  in  the  present  case,  parts  which 
we  are  not  actively  concerned  in.     For  it  may  be  worth  mentioning. 

Lastly,  that  not  only  the  reason  of  the  thing,  but  the  whole  analo- 
gy of  nature,  should  teach  us  not  to  expect  to  have  the  like  informa- 
tion concerning  the  divine  conduct  as  concerning  our  own  duty. 
God  instructs  us  by  experience,  (for  it  is  not  reason,  but  experience 
which  instructs  us)  what  good  or  bad  consequences  will  follow  from 
our  acting  in  such  and  such  manners;  and  by  this  he  directs  us  how 
we  are  to  behave  ourselves.  But,  though  we  are  sufficiently  instruc- 
ted for  the  common  purposes  of  life,  jet  it  is  but  an  almost  infinite- 
ly small  part  of  natural  providence  which  we  are  at  all  let  into.  The 
case  is  the  same  with  regard  to  revelation.  The  doctrine  of  a  me- 
diator between   God  and  man,  against  which  it  is  objected  that  the 


160  Ttie  Apppintmevt  of  a  Mediatory  ^c.  Part  II 

expediency  of  some  things  in  it  is  not  understood,  relates  only  to 
what  was  done  on  God's  part  in  the  appointment,  and  on  the  Medi- 
ator's in  the  execution  of  it.  For  what  is  required  of  us,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  gracious  dispensation,  is  another  subject  in  which 
none  can  complain  for  want  of  information.  The  constitution  of 
the  world,  and  God's  natural  government  over  it,  is  all  mystery,  as 
much  as  the  Christian  dispensation.  Yet  under  the  first  he  has  giv- 
en men  all  things  pertaining  to  life,  and  under  the  other  all  things 
pertaining  unto  godliness.  And  it  may  be  added,  that  there  is  noth- 
ing hard  to  be  accounted  for  in  any  of  the  common  precepts  of  Chris- 
tianity; though  if  there  were,  surely  a  divine  command  is  abundant- 
ly sufficient  to  lay  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  obedience. 
But  the  fact  is,  that  the  reasons  of  all  the  Christian  precepts  are  ev- 
ident. Positive  institutions  are  manifestly  necessary  to  keep  up 
and  propagate  religion  amongst  mankind.  And  our  duty  to  Christ, 
the  internal  and  external  worship  of  him;  this  part  of  the  religion  of 
the  Gospel  manifestly  arises  out  of  what  he  has  done  and  suffered, 
his  authority  and  dominion,  and  the  relation  which  he  is  revealed  to 
stand  in  to  us.* 

*Pagei24,  &c. 


Chap.  VI.       ,         Bevelation  not  universal^  Sfc.  161 


CHAP.  VI. 

Of  the  want  of  Universality  in  Revelation;  and  of  the  supposed 
Deficiency  in  the  Proof  of  it. 

IT  lias  been  thought  by  some  persons,  that  if  the  evidence  of  revela- 
tion appears  doubtful,  this  itself  turns  into  a  positive  argument 
against  it,  because  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  if  it  were  true  it  would 
be  left  to  subsist  upon  doubtful  evidence.  And  the  objection  against 
revelation  from  its  not  being  universal  is  often  insisted  upon  as  of 
great  weight. 

Now  the  weakness  of  these  opinions  may  be  shewn,  by  observing 
the  suppositions  on  which  they  are  founded,  which  are  really  such 
as  these — that  it  cannot  be  thought  God  would  have  bestowed  any 
favor  at  all  upon  us,  unless  in  the  degree  which  we  think  he  might, 
and  which  we  imagine  would  be  most  to  our  particular  advantage; 
and  also  that  it  cannot  be  thought  he  would  bestow  a  favor  upon  any 
unless  he  bestowed  the  same  upon  allj  suppositions  which  we  find 
contradicted  not  by  a  few  instances  in  God's  natural  government  of 
the  world,  but  by  the  general  analogy  of  nature  together. 

Persons  who  speak  of  the  evidence  of  religion  as  doubtful,  and  of 
this  supposed  doubtfulness  as  a  positive  argument  against  it,  should 
be  put  upon  considering  what  that  evidence  indeed  is,  which  they 
act  upon  with  regard  to  their  temporal  interests.  For,  it  is  not  only 
extremely  difficult,  but,  in  many  cases,  absolutely  impossible,  to  bal- 
ance pleasure  and  pain,  satisfaction  and  uneasiness,  so  as  to  be  able 
to  say  on  which  side  the  overplus  is.  There  are  the  like  difficulties 
and  impossibilities  in  making  the  due  allowances  for  a  change  of  tem- 
per and  taste,  for  satiety,  disgusts,  ill  health;  any  of  which  render 
men  incapable  of  enjoying,  after  they  have  obtained,  what  they  most 
eagerly  desired.  Numberless  too  are  the  accidents,  besides  that  one 
of  untimely  death,  which  may  even  probably  disappoint  the  best  con- 
certed schemes;  and  strong  objections  are  often  seen  to  lie  against 
them,  not  to  he  removed  or  answered,  but  which  seem  overbalanced 
by  reasons  on  the  other  side;  so  as  that  the  certain  difficulties  and 
dangers  of  the  pursuit  are,  by  every  one,  thought  justly  disregarded, 
upon  account  of  the  appearing  greater  advantages  in  case  of  success, 
thougli< there  be  but  little  probability  of  it.  Lastly,  every  one  ob- 
serves our  liableness,  if  we  be  not  upon  our  guard,  to  be  deceived  by 
the  falsehood  of  mes),  and  the  false  appearances  of  things;  and  this 
danger  must  be  g.  _u.tly  increased,  if  there  be  a  strong  bias  within, 
suppose  from  indulged  passion,  to  favor  the  deceit. '  Hence  arises 
that  great  uncen.iinty  a  id  doubtfulness  of  proof,  wherein  our  tem- 
poral interest  really  consists,  what  are  the  most  probable  means  of 
attaining  it,  and  whether  those  means  wi!"  eventually  be  successful. 
W 


162  Revelallun  not  universal:  Part  II. 

Aud  uunibcriess  instances  there  are,  in  the  daily  course  of  life,  in 
vvliich  all  men  think  it  reasonable  to  engage  in  pursuits,  (hough  the 
probabilit)?  is  greatly  against  succeeding,  and  to  make  such  piuvision 
for  themselves,  as  it  is  supposable  they  may  have  occasion  for,  though- 
the  plain  acknowledged  probability  is  that  they  never  shall  Then 
those  who  think  the  objection  against  revelation,  from  its  light  not 
being  universal,  to  be  of  weight,  should  obseive,  that  the  Author  of 
nature,  in  numberless  instances,  bestows  that  upon  some  which  he 
does  not  upon  others  who  seem  equally  to  stand  in  need  of  it.  In- 
deed he  appears  to  bestow  all  his  gifts  with  the  most  promiscuous 
variety  among  creatures  of  the  same  species;  health  and  strength, 
capacities  of  prudence  and  of  knowledge,  means  of  improvement, 
riches,  and  all  external  advantages.  And  as  there  are  not  an>  two 
men  found  of  exactlj'  like  shape  and  features,  so  it  is  probable  there 
are  not  any  two  of  an  exactly  like  constitution,  temper  and  situation, 
with  regard  to  the  goods  and  evils  of  life.  Yet,  notwithstanding 
these  uncertainties  and  varieties.  God  does  exercise  a  natural  gov- 
ernment over  the  world,  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  prudent  and 
imprudent  institution  of  life,  with  regard  to  our  health  and  our  aftairs 
under  that  his  natural  government. 

As  neither  the  Jewish  nor  Christian  revelation  havebeenuniversal, 
and  as  they  have  been  aftorded  to  a  greater  or  less  part  of  the  world, 
at  different  times,  so  likewise  at  different  times  boih  revelations  have 
had  different  degrees  of  evidence  The  Jews  who  lived  during  the 
succession  of  prophets,  that  is,  from  Moses  till  after  the  captivitj"^, 
had  higher  evidence  of  the  truth  of  their  religion,  than  those  had, 
who  lived  in  the  interval  between  the  last  mentioned  period  and  the 
coming  of  Christ.  And  the  first  Christians  had  higher  evidence  of 
the  miracles  wrought  in  attestation  of  Christianity  than  what  we 
have  now.  They  had  also  a  strong  presumptive  proof  of  the  truth  of 
it,  perhaps  of  much  greater  force,  in  way  of  argument,  than  many 
think,  of  which  we  have  very  little  remaining;  1  mean  the  presump- 
tive proof  of  its  truth,  from  the  influence  which  it  had  upon  the  lives 
of  the  generality  of  its  professors.  And  we,  or  future  ages,  may  pos- 
sibly have  a  proof  of  it,  which  they  could  not  have,  from  the  conform- 
ity between  the  prophetic  history  and  the  state  of  the  world  and  of 
Christianity.  And  farther,  if  we  were  to  suppose  the  evidence  which 
some  have  of  religion  to  amount  to  little  more  than  seeing  that  it  may 
be  true,  but  that  they  remain  in  great  doubts  and  uncertainties  about 
both  its  evidence  and  its  nature,  and  great  perplexities  concerning 
the  rule  of  life;  others  to  have  a  full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  reli- 
gion, with  a  distinct  knowledge  of  their  duty;  and  others  severally  to 
have  all  the  intermediate  degrees  of  religious  light  and  evidence, 
which  lie  between  these  two — if  we  put  the  case,  that  for  the  present 
it  was  intended  revelation  should  be  no  more  than  a  small  light,  in 
the  midst  of  a  world  greatly  overspread,  notwithstanding  it,  with 
ignorance  and  darkness;  that  certain  glimmerings  of  this  light  should 
extend  and  be  directed  to  remote  distances,  in  such  a  manner  as  that 
those  who  really  partook  of  it  should  not  discern  from  whence  it 
originally  came;  that  some  in  a  nearer  situation  to  it  should  have  its 
light  obscured,  and  in  different  ways  and  degrees  intercepted;  and 
tliat  others  should  be  placed  within  its  clearer  influence,  and  be  much 


Chap.  VI.  Supposed  Deficienney  in  its  Proof.  1G5 

more  enlivened,  cheered  and  directed  by  it;  but  yet  that  even  to 
these  it  should  be  no  more  than  a  light  shining  in  a  dark  place;— 
all  this  would  be  perfectly  uniform  and  of  a  piece  with  the  conduct 
of  Providence  in  the  distribution  of  its  other  blessings.  If  the  fact 
of  the  case  really  were,  that  some  have  received  no  light  at  all  from 
the  Scripture,  as  many  ages  and  countries  in  the  heathen  world;  that 
others,  though  they  have  by  means  of  it  had  essential  or  natural  reli- 
gion enforced  upon  their  consciences,  yet  have  never  had  the  genu- 
ine scripture  revelation  with  its  real  evidence  proposed  to  their  con- 
sideration, and  the  ancient  Persians  and  modern  Mahometans  may 
possibly  be  instances  of  people  in  a  situation  somewhat  like  to  this; 
that  others,  though  they  have  had  the  Scripture  laid  before  them  as  of 
divine  revelation,  yet  have  had  it  with  the  system  and  evidence  of 
Christianity  so  interpolated,  the  system  so  corrupted,  the  evidence 
so  blended  with  false  fniracles,  as  to  leave  the  mind  in  the  utmost 
doubtfulness  and  uncertainty  about  the  whole;  which  may  be  the 
state  of  some  thoughtful  men,  in  most  of  those  nations  who  call  them- 
selves Christian.  And  lastly,  that  others  have  had  Christianity 
offered  to  them  in  its  genuine  simplicity,  and  with  its  proper  evi- 
dence, as  persons  in  countries  and  churciies  of  civil  and  of  Christian 
liberty;  but  however  that  even  these  persons  are  left  in  great  igno- 
rance in  many  respects,  and  have  by  no  means  light  afforded  them 
enough  to  satisfy  their  curiosity,  but  only  to  regulate  their  life,  to 
teach  them  their  duty,  and  encourage  them  in  the  careful  discharge 
of  it:  I  say,  if  we  were  to  suppose  this  somewhat  of  a  general  true 
account  of  the  degrees  of  moral  and  religious  light  and  evidence,* 
■which  were  intended  to  be  aflforded  mankind,  and  of  what  has  actu- 
ally been  and  is  their  situation,  in  their  moral  and  religious  capacity, 
there  would  be  nothing  in  all  this  ignorance,  doubtfulness  and  uncer- 
tainty, in  all  these  varieties,  and  supposed  disadvantages  of  some  in 
comparison  of  others,  respecting  religion,  but  may  be  paralleled  by 
manifest  analogies  in  the  natural  dispensations  of  Providence  at  pres- 
ent, and  considering  ourselves  merely  in  our  temporal  capacity. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  shocking  in  all  this,  or  which  would  seem 
to  bear  hard  upon  the  moral  administration  in  nature,  if  we  would 
really  keep  in  mind  that  every  one  shall  be  dealt  equitably  with, 
instead  of  forgetting  this,  or  explaining  it  away,  after  it  is  acknowl- 
edged in  words.  All  shadow  of  injustice,  and  indeed  all  harsh  ap- 
pearances, in  this  various  economy  of  Providence,  would  be  lost,  if 
we  would  keep  in  mind  that  every  merciful  allowance  shall  be  made, 
and  no  more  be  required  of  any  one  than  what  might  have  been  equi- 
tably expected  of  him,  from  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed, 
and  not  what  might  have  been  expected  had  he  been  placed  in  other 
circumstances;  i.  e.  in  Scripture  language,  that  every  man  shall  be 
accepted  according  to  what  he  had,  not  according  to  what  he  had  not* 
This  however  doth  not  by  any  means  imply  that  all  persons'  condi- 
tion here  is  equally  advantageous  with  respect  to  futury.  And  Prov- 
idence's designing  to  place  some  in  greater  darkness  with  respect  to 
religious  knowledge,  is  no  more  a  reason  why  they  should  not  en- 
deavor to  get  out  of  that  darkness,  and  others  to  bring  them  out  of 

*2  Cor.  viii.  12. 


164  Revelation  not  universal:  Part  II. 

it,  than  why  ignorant  and  slow  people  in  matters  of  other  knowledge 
should  not  endeavor  to  learn,  or  should  not  be  instructed. 

It  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  same  wise  and  good 
principle,  whatever  it  was,  which  disposed  the  Author  of  nature  to 
make  dift'erent  kinds  and  orders  of  creatures,  disposed  him  also  to 
place  creatures  of  like  kinds  in  different  situations;  and  that  the 
same  principle  which  disposed  him  to  make  creatures  of  different 
moral  capacities,  disposed  him  also  to  place  creatures  of  like  moral 
capacities  in  different  religious  situations,  and  even  the  same  crea  . 
tures  in  different  periods  of  their  being.  And  the  account  or  reason 
of  this  is  also  most  pi-obably  the  account,  why  the  constitution  of 
things  is  such,  as  that  creatures  of  moral  natures  or  capacities,  for  a 
considerable  part  of  that  duration  in  which  they  are  living  agents, 
are  not  at  all  subjects  of  morality  and  religion,  hut  grow  up  <o  be  so, 
and  grow  up  to  be  so  more  and  more,  gradually  from  childhood  to 
mature  age. 

What,  in  particular,  is  the  account  or  reason  of  these  things,  wc 
must  be  greatly  in  the  dark,  were  it  only  that  we  know  so  very  little 
even  of  our  own  case.  Our  present  state  may  possibly  be  the  conse- 
quence of  somewhat  past  which  we  are  wholly  ignorant  of,  as  it  has 
a  reference  to  somewhat  to  come,  of  which  v/e  know  scarce  any  more 
than  is  necessary  for  practice.  A  system  or  constitution,  in  its 
notion,  implies  variety;  and  so  complicated  an  one  as  this  world, 
very  great  variety.  So  that  were  revelation  universal,  yet  from 
men's  different  capacities  of  understanding,  from  the  different  lengths 
of  their  lives,  their  different  educations  and  other  external  circum- 
stances, and  from  their  difference  of  temper  and  bodily  constitution; 
their  religious  situations  would  be  widely  different,  and  the  disad- 
vantage of  some  in  comparison  of  others,  perhaps,  altogether  as  much 
as  at  present.  And  the  true  account,  whatever  it  be,  why  mankind, 
or  such  a  part  of  mankind,  are  placed  in  this  condition  of  ignorance, 
must  be  supposed  also  the  true  account  of  our  farther  ignorance,  in 
not  knowing  the  reasons  why  or  whence  it  is  that  they  are  placed  in 
this  condition.  But  the  following  practical  reflections  may  deserve 
the  serious  consideration  of  those  persons  who  think  the  circum- 
stances of  mankind  or  their  own,  in  the  forementioned  respects,  a 
ground  of  complaint. 

First,  the  evidence  of  religion  not  appearing  obvious,  may  consti- 
tute one  particular  part  of  some  men's  trial  in  the  religious  sense,  as 
it  gives  scope  for  a  virtuous  exercise  or  vicious  neglect  of  their  under- 
standing, in  examining  or  not  examining  into  that  evidence.  There 
seems  no  possible  reason  to  be  given,  why  we  may  not  be  in  a  state 
of  moral  probation,  with  rejiard  to  the  exercise  of  our  understanding 
upon  the  subject  of  religion,  us  we  are  with  regard  to  our  behaviour 
in  common  affairs,  'i'he  former  is  as  much  a  thing  within  our  power 
and  choice  as  the  latter.  And  I  suppose  it  is  to  be  laid  down  for 
certain,  that  the  same  character,  the  same  inward  principle,  which, 
after  a  man  is  convinced  of  the  truth  of  religion,  renders  him  obedi- 
ent to  the  precepts  of  it,  would,  were  he  not  thus  convinced,  set  him 
about  an  examination  of  it,  upon  its  system  and  evidence  being 
offered  to  his  thoughts;  and  thiit  in  the  i^i*er  state  his  examination 
would  be  with  an  impartiality,  seriousness  and  solicitude  proportion- 


Chap.  VI.  Supposed  Deficiency  in  its  Froof.  165 

able  to  what  his  obedience  is  in  the  former.  And  as  inattention,  neg- 
ligence, want  of  all  serious  concern  about  a  matter  of  such  a  nature 
and  such  importance,  when  offered  to  men's  consideration,  is,  before 
a  distinct  conviction  of  its  truth,  as  real  immoral  depravity  and  dis- 
soluteness, as  neglect  of  religious  practice  after  such  conviction — so 
active  solicitude  about  it,  and  fair  impartial  consideration  of  its  evi- 
dence before  such  conviction,  is  as  really  an  exercise  of  a  morally 
light  temper  as  is  religious  practice  after.  Thus,  that  relif^ion  is  not 
intuitively  true,  but  a  matter  of  deduction  and  inference;  that  a  con- 
viction of  its  truth  is  not  forced  upon  every  one,  but  left  to  be,  by 
some,  collected  with  heedful  attention  to  premises;  this  as  inuch 
constitutes  religious  probation,  as  much  affords  sphere,  scope,  oppor- 
tunity, for  right  and  wrong  behaviour  as  any  thing  whatever  does. 
And  their  manner  of  treating  this  subject  when  laid  before  them, 
shews  what  is  in  their  heart,  and  is  an  exertion  of  it. 

Secondly,  it  appears  to  be  a  thing  as  evident,  though  it  is  not  so 
much  attended  to,  that  if  upon  consideration  of  religion  the  evidence 
of  it  should  seem  to  any  persons  doubtful,  in  the  highest  supposable 
degree,  even  this  doubtful  evidence  will,  however,  put  them  into  a 
general  state  of  probation  in  the  moral  and  religious  sense.  For, 
suppose  a  man  to  be  really  in  doubt  whether  such  a  person  had  not 
done  him  the  greatest  favor,  or  whether  his  whole  temporal  interest 
did  not  depend  upon  that  person=— no  one,  who  had  any  sense  of  grat- 
itude and  of  prudence,  could  possibly  consider  himself  in  the  same 
situation  with  regard  to  such  person,  as  if  he  had  no  such  doubt.  In 
truth,  it  is  as  just  to  say  that  certainty  and  doubt  are  the  same,  as  to 
say,  the  situations  now  mentioned  would  leave  a  man  as  entirely  at 
liberty  in  point  of  gratitude  or  prudence,  as  he  would  be  were  he  cer- 
tain he  had  received  no  favor  frorn  such  person,  or  that  he  no  way 
depended  upon  him.  And  thus,  though  the  evidence  of  religion 
which  is  afforded  to  some  men  should  be  little  more  than  that  they 
are  given  to  see  the  system  of  Christianity,  or  religion  in  general,  to 
be  supposable  and  credible — this  ought  in  all  reason  to  beget  a  seri- 
ous practical  apprehension  that  it  may  be  true.  And  even  this  will 
afford  matter  of  exercise  for  religious  suspense  and  deliberation,  for 
moral  resolution  and  self-government,  because  the  apprehension  tiiat 
religion  may  be  true,  does  as  really  lay  men  under  obligations  as  a 
full  conviction  that  it  is  true.  It  gives  occasion  and  motives  to  con- 
sider farther  the  important  subject,  to  preserve  attentively  upon  their 
minds  a  general  implicit  sense  that  they  may  be  under  divine  moral 
government,  an  awful  solicitude  about  religion,  whether  natural  or 
revealed.  Such  apprehension  ought  to  turn  men's  eyes  to  every  de- 
gree of  new  light  which  may  be  had,  from  whatever  side  it  comes, 
and  induce  them  to  refrain  in  the  mean  time  from  all  immoralities, 
and  live  in  the  conscientious  practice  of  every  common  virtue.  Es- 
pecially are  they  bound  to  keep  at  the  greatest  distance  from  all  dis- 
solute profaneness;  for  this  the  very  nature  of  the  case  forbids;  and 
to  treat  with  highest  reverence  a  matter,  upon  which  their  own  whole 
interest  and  being,  and  the  fate  of  nature  depends.  This  behaviour, 
and  an  active  endeavor  to  maintain  within  themselves  this  temper,  is 
the  business,  the  duty,  and  the  wisdom  of  those  persons,  who  com- 
plain of  the  doubtfulness  of  religion;  is  what  they  are  under  the  most 


166  Revelation  not  univernal:  Part  II. 

proper  obligations  to.  And  such  behaviour  is  an  exertion  of,  and  has 
a  tendency'  to  improve  in  them  that  character,  which  the  practice  of 
all  the  several  duties  of  religion,  from  a  full  conviction  of  its  truth,  is 
an  exertion  of,  and  has  a  tendency  to  improve  in  others;  others,  I 
say,  to  whom  God  has  attbrded  such  conviction.  Nay,  considering 
the  infinite  importance  of  religion,  revealed  as  well  as  natural,  I 
think  it  may  be  said  in  general,  that  whoever  will  weigh  the  matter 
thoroughly  may  see  there  is  not  near  so  much  difference  as  is  com- 
monly imagined,  between  what  ought  in  reason  to  be  the  rule  of  life, 
to  those  persons  who  are  fully  convinced  of  its  truth,  and  to  those 
M'ho  have  only  a  serious  doubting  apprehension  that  it  may  be  true. 
Their  hopes,  and  fears,  and  obligjrtions  will  be  in  various  degrees; 
but,  as  the  subject  matter  of  their  hopes  and  fears  is  the  same,  so  the 
subject  matter  of  their  obligations,  what  they  are  bound  to  do  and  to 
refrain  from,  is  not  so  very  uidike. 

It  is  to  be  observed  farther,  that  from  a  character  of  understand- 
ing, or  a  situation  of  influence  in  the  world,  some  persons  have  it  in 
their  power  to  do  infinitely  more  harm  or  good,  by  setting  an  example 
of  profaneness  and  avowfed  disregard  to  all  religion,  or,  on  the  con- 
trary, of  a  serious,  though  perhaps  doubting  apprehension  of  its  truth, 
and  of  a  reverend  regard  to  it  under  this  doubtfulness,  than  they  can 
do,  bj  acting  well  or  ill  in  all  the  common  intercourses  amongst 
mankind.  And  consequently  they  are  most  highly  accountable  for 
a  behaviour,  which  they  may  easily  foresee  is  of  such  importance, 
and  in  which  there  is  most  plainly  a  right  and  a  wrong,  even  admit- 
ting the  evidence  of  religion  to  be  as  doubtful  as  is  pretended. 

The  ground  of  these  observations,  and  that  which  renders  them 
just  and  true,  is,  that  doubting  necessarily  implies  some  degree  of 
evidence  for  that  of  which  we  doubt.  For  no  person  would  be  in 
doubt  concerning  the  truth  of  a  number  of  facts  so  and  so  circum- 
stanced, which  should  accidentally  come  into  his  thoughts,  and  of 
which  he  had  no  evidencce  at  all.  And  though  in  the  case  of  an 
even  chance,  and  where  consequently  we  were  in  doubt,  we  should 
in  common  language  say  that  we  had  no  evidence  at  all  for  either 
side — yet  that  situation  of  things,  which  renders  it  an  even  chance 
and  no  more,  that  such  an  event  will  happen,  renders  this  case  equiv- 
alent to  all  others,  where  there  is  such  evidence  on  both  sides  of  a 
question,*  as  leaves  the  mind  in  doubt  concerning  the  truth.  In- 
deed in  all  these  cases,  there  is  no  more  evidence  on  one  side  than 
on  the  other;  but  there  is  (what  is  equivalent  to)  much  moVe  for 
either  than  for  the  truth  of  a  number  of  facts  which  come  into  one's 
thoughts  at  random.  And  thus  in  all  these  cases  doubt  as  much 
presupposes  evidence,  lower  degrees  of  evidence,  as  belief  presup- 
poses higher,  and  certainty  higher  still.  Any  one  who  will  a  little 
attend  to  the  nature  of  evidence,  will  easily  carry  this  observation 
on.  and  see  that  between  no  evidence  at  all,  and  that  diegree  of  it 
which  affords  ground  of  doubt,  there  are  as  many  intermediate 
degrees,  as  there  are  between  that  degree  which  is  the  ground  of 
doubt,  and  demonstration.  And  though  we  have  not  faculties  to 
distinguish  these  degrees  of  evidence  with  any  sor^  ff  exactness,  yet 

*  rntrod'i'^tioc. 


Chap.  VI.  Supposed  Deficiency  of  its  Proof.  167 

in  proportion  as  thej  are  discerned  they  ought  to  influence  our  prac- 
tice. For  it  is  as  real  an  imperfection  in  the  moral  character,  not  to 
be  influenced  in  practice  by  a  lower  degree  of  evidence  when  dis- 
cerned, as  it  is  in  the  understanding  not  to  discern  it.  And  as  in  all 
subjects  which  men  consider,  they  discern  the  lower  as  well  as  higher 
degrees  of  evidence,  proportionably  to  their  capacity  of  understan' 
ding— so  in  practical  subjects  they  are  influenced  in  practice,  by  the 
lower  as  well  as  higher  degrees  of  it,  proportionably  to  their  fairness 
and  honesty.  And  as,  in  proportion  to  defects  in  the  understanding, 
men  are  unapt  to  see  lower  degrees  of  evidence,  are  in  danger  of 
overlooking  evidence  when  it  is  not  glaring,  and  are  easily  imposed 
upon  in  such  cases — so  in  proportion  to  the  corruption  of  tjie  heart, 
they  seem  capable  of  satisfying  themselves  with  having  no  regard  in 
practice  to  evidence  acknowledged  real,  if  it  be  not  overbearing. 
From  these  things  it  must  follow,  that  doubting  concerning  religioa 
injplies  such  a  degree  of  evidence  for  it  as,  joined  with  the  consid- 
eration of  its  importance,  unquestionably  lays  men  under  the  obliga- 
tions before  mentioned  to  have  a  dutiful  regard  to  it  in  all  their 
behaviour. 

Thirdly,  the  difficulties  in  which  the  evidence  of  religion  is 
involved,  which  some  complain  of,  is  no  more  a  just  ground  of  com- 
plaint, than  the  external  circumstances  of  temptation  which  others 
are  placed  in,  or  than  difficulties  in  the  practice  of  it  after  a  full 
conviction  of  its  truth.  Temptations  render  our  state  a  more  in-pro- 
ving state  of  discipline*  than  it  would  be  otherwise,  as  they  give  oc- 
casion for  a  more  attentive  exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle,  which 
confirms  and  strengthens  it  more  than  an  easier  or  less  attentive 
exercise  of  it  could.  Now  speculative  difficulties  are,  in  this  respect, 
of  the  very  same  nature  with  these  external  temptations.  For  the 
evidence  of  religion  not  appearing  obvious,  is  to  some  persons  a. 
temptation  to  reject  it,  without  any  consideration  at  all;  and  there- 
fore requires  such  an  attentive  exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle,  se- 
riously to  consider  that  evidence,  as  there  would  be  no  occasion  for 
but  for  such  temptation.  And  the  supposed  doubtfulness  of  its  evi- 
dence, after  it  has  been  in  some  sort  considered,  affords  opportunity 
to  an  unfair  mind  of  explaining  away,  and  deceitfully  hiding  frons 
itself,  that  evidence  which  it  might  see,  and  also  for  men's  encour- 
aging themselves  in  vice  from  hopes  of  impunity,  though  they  do 
clearly  see  thus  much  at  least  that  these  hopes  are  uncertain;  in  like 
manner  as  the  common  temptation  to  many  instances  of  folly,  which 
end  in  temporal  infamy  and  ruin,  is  the  ground  for  hope  of  not  bein*» 
detected,  and  of  escaping  with  impunity;  i.  e.  the  doubtfulness  ol 
the  proof  beforehand,  that  such  foolish  behaviour  will  thus  end  ia 
infamy  and  ruin.  On  the  contrary,  supposed  doubtfulness  in  the  evi- 
dence of  religion  calls  for  a  more  careful  and  attentive  exercise  of 
the  virtuous  principle  in  fairly  yielding  themselves  up  to  the  proper 
influence  of  any  real  evidence,  though  doubtful,  and  in  practising 
conscientiously  all  virtue,  though  under  some  uncertainty  whether 
the  government  in  the  universe  may  not  possibly  be  such,  as  that  vice 
may  escape  with  impunity.    And  in  general;  temptation,  meaning 

*  Part !.  Chap.  -, 


168  Eevelation  not  universal:  Part  II. 

by  this  word  the  lesser  allurements  to  wrong  and  difficulties  in  the 
discharge  of  our  duty,  as  well  as  the  greater  ones — temptation,  I 
say,  as  such,  and  of  every  kind  and  degree,  as  it  calls  forth  some 
virtuous  efforts,  additional  to  what  would  otherwise  have  been  wan- 
ting, cannot  but  be  an  additional  discipline  and  improvement  of 
virtue,  as  well  as  probation  of  it  in  the  other  senses  of  that  word.* 
So  that  the  very  same  account  is  to  be  given  why  the  evidence  of 
religion  should  be  left  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  require  in  some  an 
attentive,  solicitous,  perhaps  painful  exercise  of  their  understan- 
ding about  it,  as  why  others  should  be  placed  in  such  circumstances 
as  that  the  practice  of  its  common  duties,  after  a  full  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  it,  should  require  attention,  solicitude  and  pains;  or, 
why  appearing  doubtfulness  should  be  permitted  to  afford  matter  of 
temptation  to  some,  as  why  external  difficulties  and  alUnements 
should  be  permitted  to  afford  matter  of  temptation  to  others.  The 
same  account  also  is  to  be  given  why  some  should  be  exercised  with 
temptations  of  both  these  kinds,  as  why  others  should  be  exercised 
with  the  latter  in  such  very  high  degrees  as  some  have  been,  partic- 
ularly as  the  primitive  Christians  were. 

Nor  does  there  appear  any  absurdity  in  supposing,  that  the  spec- 
ulative difficulties  in  which  the  evidence  of  religion  is  involved,  may 
make  even  the  principal  part  of  some  persons'  trial.  For,  as  the 
chief  temptations  of  the  generality  of  the  world  are,  the  ordinary 
motives  to  injustice  or  unrestrained  pleasure,  or  to  live  in  the  neg- 
lect of  religion,  from  that  frame  of  mind  which  renders  many  per- 
sons aliKDst  without  feeling  as  to  any  thing  distant,  or  which  is  not 
the  object  of  their  senses — so  there  are  other  persons  without  this 
shallowness  of  temper,  persons  of  a  deeper  sense  as  to  what  is  invis- 
ible and  future;  who  not  only  see,  but  have  a  general  practical 
feeling,  that  what  is  to  come  will  be  present,  and  that  things  are  not 
less  real  for  their  not  being  the  objects  of  sense;  and  who,  from  their 
natural  constitution  of  body  and  of  temper,  and  from  their  external 
condition,  may  have  small  temptations  to  behave  ill,  small  difficulty 
in  behaving  well  in  the  common  course  of  life.  Now  when  these 
latter  persons  have  a  distinct  full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  religion, 
without  any  possible  doubts  or  difficulties,  the  practice  of  it  is  to 
them  unavoidable,  unless  they  will  do  a  constant  violence  to  their 
own  minds;  and  religion  is  scarce  any  more  a  discipline  to  them  than 
it  is  to  creatures  in  a  state  of  perfection.  Yet  these  persons  may 
possibly  stand  in  need  of  moral  discipline  and  exercise  in  a  higher 
degree,  than  they  would  have  by  such  an  easy  practice  of  religion. 
Or  it  may  be  requisite  for  reasons  unknown  to  us,  that  they  should 
give  some  farther  manifestationf  what  is  their  moral  character,  to 
the  creation  of  God,  than  such  a  practice  of  it  would  be.  Thus  in 
the  great  variety  of  religious  situations  in  which  men  are  placed, 
what  constitutes,  what  chiefly  and  peculiarly  constitutes  the  proba- 
tion, in  all  senses,  of  some  persons,  may  be  the  difficulties  in  which 
the  evidence  of  religion  is  involved;  and  their  principal  and  distin- 
guished trial  may  be,  how  they  will  behave  under  and  with  respect 
to  these  difficulties.    Circumstances  in  men's  situation  in  their  tem- 

^  Part  I.  Chap,  v,  and  page  06,        f  Pi»ge  96. 


€hap.  Vt-  Supposed  Deficiency  of  its-Froof,  169 

poral  capacity,  analogous  in  good  measure  to  this  respecting  religion, 
are  to  be  observed.  We  find  some  persons  are  placed  in  such  a  situ- 
ation in  the  world,  as  that  their  chief  difficulty  with  regard  to  con- 
duct, is  not  the  doing  what  is  prudent  when  it  is  known,  for  this  in 
numberless  cases  is  as  easy  as  the  contrary,  but  to  some  the  princi- 
pal exercise  is,  recollection  and  being  upon  their  guard  against 
deceits,  the  deceits  suppose  of  those  about  them,  against  false  ap- 
pearances of  reason  and  prudence.  To  persons  in  some  situations 
the  principal  exercise  with  respect  to  conduct  is,  attention  in  order 
to  inform  themselves  what  is  proper,  what  is  really  the  reasonable 
and  prudent  part  to  act. 

-But  as  1  have  hitherto  gone  upon  supposition,  that  men's  dissatis- 
faction with  the  evidence  of  religion  is  not  owing  to  their  neglects 
or  prejudices,  it  must  be  added  on  the  other  hand,  in  all  common 
reason,  and  as  what  the  truth  of  the  case  plainly  requires  should  be 
added,  that  such  dissatisfaction  possibly  may  be  owing  to  those,  pos- 
sibly may  be  men's  own  fault.     For, 

If  there  are  any  persons  who  never  set  themselves  heartily  and  ia 
earnest  to  be  informed  in  religion;  if  there  are  any  who  secretly 
wish  it  may  not  prove  true,  and  are  less  attentive  to  evidence  than 
to  difficulties,  and  more  to  objections  than  to  what  is  said  in  answer 
to  them — these  persons  will  scarce  be  thought  in  a  likely  way  of 
seeing  the  evidence  of  religion,  though  it  were  most  certainly  true, 
and  capable  of  being  ever  so  fully  proved.  If  any  accustom  them- 
selves to  consider  this  subject  usually  in  the  way  of  mirth  and  sport; 
if  they  attend  to  forms  and  representations,  and  inadequate  man- 
ners of  expression,  instead  of  the  real  things  intended  by  them; 
(for  signs  often  can  be  no  more  than  inadequately  expressive  of  the 
things  signified)  or  if  they  substitute  human  errors  in  the  room  of 
divine  truth — why  may  not  all,  or  any  of  these  things,  hinder  some 
men  from  seeing  that  evidence  which  really  is  seen  by  others,  as  a 
like  turn  of  mind  with  respect  to  matters  of  common  speculation 
and  practice,  does,  we  find  by  experience,  hinder  them  from  attain- 
ing that  knowledge  and  right  understanding,  in  matters  of  common 
speculation  and  practice,  which  more  fair  and  attentive  minds  attain 
to.'*  And  the  effect  will  be  the  same,  whether  their  neglect  of  seri- 
ously considering  the  evidence  of  religion,  and  their  indirect  behav- 
iour with  regard  to  it,  proceed  from  mere  carelessness,  or  from  the 
grosser  vices;  or  whether  it  be  owing  to  this,  that  forms  and  figura- 
tive manners  of  expression,  as  well  as  errors,  administer  occasions 
of  ridicule,  when  the  things  intended  and  the  truth  itself  would  not. 
Men  may  indulge  a  ludicrous  turn  so  far  as  to  lose  all  sense  of  con- 
duct and  prudence  in  worldly  affairs,  and  even  as  it  seems  to  impair 
their  faculty  of  reason.  And  in  general,  levity,  carelessness,  pas- 
sion and  prejudice  do  hinder  us  from  being  rightly  informed  with 
respect  to  common  things;  and  they  may  in  like  manner,  and  per- 
haps in  some  farther  providential  manner,  with  respect  to  moral 
and  religious  subjects;  may  hinder  evidence  from  being  laid  before 
us,  and  from  being  seen  when  it  is.    The  Scripture*  does  declare 

•Daiuxii.  10.  See  also  Isai.  xxix.  13,  14.  Matth.  vi.  23,  andxi.  25,  and  xiii.  II, 
12.    John  iii.  19.    John  v.  4*    I  Cor.  ii.  14,  and  2  Cor.  iv.  4»    2  Tim.  iii.  13,  and 

X 


170  Revelation  not  universal:  Part  II. 

that  every  one  shall  not  understand.  And  it  makes  no  difference  by 
what  providential  conduct  this  comes  to  pass:  whether  the  evidence 
of  Christianity  was,  originally  and  with  design,  put  and  left  so  as 
that  those  who  are  desirous  of  evading  moral  obligations  should  not 
see  it,  and  that  honest  minded  persons  should;  or  whether  it  comes 
to  pass  by  any  other  means. 

Farther,  the  general  proof  of  natural  religion  and  of  Christianity, 
does,  I  think,  lie  level  to  common  men;  even  those,  the  greatest  part 
of  whose  time,  from  childhood  to  old  age,  is  taken  up  with  provid- 
ing for  themselves  and  their  families  the  common  conveniences, 
perhaps  necessaries  of  life;  those  I  mean  of  this  rank,  who  ever 
think  at  all  of  asking  after  proof  or  attending  to  it.  Common  men, 
were  they  as  much  in  earnest  about  religion  as  about  their  temporal 
affairs,  arc  capable  of  being  convinced  upon  real  evidence,  that  there 
is  a  God  who  governs  the  world;  and  they  feel  themselves  to  be  of 
a  moral  nature,  and  accountable  creatures.  And  as  Christianity 
entirely  falls  in  with  this  their  natural  sense  of  things,  so  they  are 
capable,  not  only  of  being  persuaded,  but  of  being  made  to  see,  that 
there  is  evidence  of  miracles  wrought  in  attestation  of  it,  and  many 
appearing  completions  of  prophecy.  But  though  this  proof  is  real 
and  conclusive,  yet  it  is  liable  to  objections,  and  may  be  run  up  into 
difficulties;  which,  however,  persons  who  are  capable  not  only  of 
talking  of,  but  of  really  seeing,  are  capable  also  of  seeing  through; 
i.  e.  not  of  clearing  up  and  answering  them  so  as  to  satisfy  their 
curiosity,  for  of  such  knowledge  we  are  not  capable  with  respect  to 
any  one  thing  in  nature,  but  capable  of  seeing  that  the  proof  is  not 
lost  in  these  difficulties,  or  destroyed  by  these  objections.  But  then 
a  thorough  examination  into  religion  with  regard  to  these  objections, 
which  cannot  be  the  business  of  every  man,  is  a  matter  of  pretty 
large  compass,  and  from  the  nature  of  it  requires  some  knowledge, 
as  well  as  time  and  attention,  to  see  how  the  evidence  comes  out 
upon  balancing  one  thing  with  another,  and  what  upon  the  whole  is 
the  amount  of  it.  Now  if  persons  who  have  picked  up  these  objec- 
tions from  others,  and  take  for  granted  they  are  of  weight,  upon  the 
word  of  those  from  whom  they  received  them,  or  by  often  retailing 
of  them  come  to  see  or  fancy  they  see  them  to  be  of  weight,  will  not 
prepare  themselves  for  such  an  examination  with  a  competent  degree 
of  knowledge,  or  will  not  give  that  time  and  attention  to  the  subject, 
which  from  the  nature  of  it  is  necessary  for  attaining  such  informa- 
tion— in  this  case  they  must  remain  in  doubtfulness,  ignorance  or 
error,  in  the  same  way  as  they  must  with  regard  to  common  sciences, 
and  matters  of  common  life,  if  they  neglect  the  necessary  means  of 
being  informed  in  them. 

But  still  perhaps  it  will  be  objected,  that  if  a  prince  or  common 
master  were  to  send  directions  to  a  servant,  he  would  take  care  that 
they  should  always  bear  the  certain  marks  who  they  came  from,  and 

that  afTectionate,  as  ■well  as  authoritative  admonition,  so  very  many  times  inculcatecl, 
•  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear.'  Grotius  saw  so  strongly  the  thing  intended 
in  these  and  other  passages  of  Scripture  of  the  like  sense,  as  to  say  that  the  proof 
given  us  of  Christianity  was  less  than  it  might  have  been,  for  this  very  purpose:  Ut  ita 
sermo  Evangelii  tanquam  lapis  esset  Lydius  ad  quem  ingeaia  sanabilia  explorarentur- 
De  Vcr.  R.  C.  L.  2,  towards  the  end. 


Chap.  VI.  Supposed  Deficiency  of  its  Proof.  171 

that  their  sense  should  be  always  plain,  so  as  that  there  should  be  no 
possible  doubt,  if  he  could  help  it,  concerning  the  authority  or  mean- 
ing of  them.  Now  the  proper  answer  to  all  this  kind  of  objections 
is,  that,  wherever  the  fallacy  lies,  it  is  even  certain  we  cannot  argue 
thus  with  respect  to  him  who  is  the  governor  of  the  world;  and  par- 
ticularly that  he  does  not  aftbrd  us  such  information  with  respect  to 
our  temporal  affairs  and  interests,  as  experience  abundantly  shews. 
However,  there  is  a  full  answer  to  this  objection  from  the  very  nature 
of  religion.  For,  the  reason  why  a  prince  would  give  his  directions 
in  this  plain  manner,  is,  that  he  absolutely  desires  such  an  external 
action  should  be  done,  without  concerning  himself  with  the  motive 
or  principle  upon  which  it  is  done;  i.  e.  he  regards  only  the  external 
event,  or  the  thing's  being  done,  and  not  at  all,  properly  speaking, 
the  doing  of  it,  ©r  the  action.  Whereas  the  whole  of  morality  and 
religion  consisting  merely  in  action  itself,  there  is  no  sort  of  parallel 
between  the  cases.  But  if  the  prince  be  supposed  to  regard  only  the 
action,  i.  e.  only  to  desire  to  exercise  or  in  any  sense  prove  the  un- 
derstanding or  loyalty  of  a  servant,  he  would  not  always  give  his 
orders  in  such  a  plain  manner.  It  may  be  proper  to  add,  that  the 
will  of  God  respecting  morality  and  religion  may  be  considered 
either  as  absolute  or  as  only  conditional.  If  it  be  absolute,  it  can 
only  be  thus,  that  we  should,  act  virtuously  in  such  given  circum- 
stances; not  that  we  should  be  brought  to  act  so  by  his  changing  of 
our  circumstances.  And  if  God's  will  be  thus  absolute,  then  it  is  in 
our  power,  in  the  highest  and  strictest  sense,  to  do  or  to  contradict 
his  will,  which  is  a  most  weighty  consideration.  Or  his  will  may  be 
considered  only  as  conditional,  that  if  we  act  so  and  so  we  shall  be 
rewarded;  if  otherwise,  punished;  of  which  conditional  will  of  the 
Author  of  nature  the  whole  constitution  of  it  affords  most  certain 
instances. 

Upon  the  whole — that  we  are  in  a  state  of  religion  necessarily 
implies  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  probation;  and  the  credibility  of 
our  being  at  all  in  such  a  state  being  admitted,  there  seems  no  pecul- 
iar difficulty  in  supposing  our  probation  to  be  just  as  it  is  in  those 
respects  which  are  above  objected  against.  There  stfems  no  pre- 
tence, from  the  reason  of  the  thing,  to  say,  that  the  trial  cannot  equi- 
tably be  any  thing,  but  whether  persons  will  act  suitably  to  certain 
information,  or  such  as  admits  no  room  for  doubt;  so  as  that  there 
can  be  no  danger  of  miscarriage,  but  either  from  their  not  attending 
to  what  they  certainly  know,  or  from  overbearing  passion  hurrying 
them  on  to  act  contrary  to  it.  For  since  ignorance  and  doubt  afford 
scope  for  probation  in  all  senses,  as  really  as  intuitive  conviction  or 
certainty,  and  since  the  two  former  are  to  be  put  to  the  same  account 
as  difficulties  in  practice — men's  moral  probation  may  also  be, 
whether  they  will  take  due  care  to  inform  themselves  by  impartial 
consideration,  and  afterwards  whether  they  will  act  as  the  case 
requfres,  upon  the  evidence  which  they  have,  however  doubtful. 
And  this,  we  find  by  experience,  is  frequently  our  probation,*  in  our 
temporal  capacity.  For,  the  information  which  we  want  with  regard 
to  car  worldly  interests  is  by  no  means  always  given  us  of  course, 

*Page60,  129, 168,  169. 


172-  JRevelqtion  not  universal,  Sfc.  Part  II. 

without  any  care  of  our  own.  And  we  are  greatly  liable  to  self 
deceit  from  inward  secret  prejudices,  a'nd  also  to  the  deceits  of  oth- 
ers. So  that  to  be  able  to  judge  what  is  the  prudent  part,  often 
requires  much  and  difficult  consideration.  Then  after  we  have 
judged  the  very  best  we  can,  the  evidence  upon  which  we  must  act,  if 
we  will  live  and  act  at  all,is  perpetually  doubtful  to  a  very  high  degree. 
And  the  constitution  and  course  of  the  world  in  fact  is  such,  as  that 
want  of  impartial  consideration  what  we  have  to  do,  and  venturing 
upon  extravagant  courses  because  it  is  doubtful  what  will  be  the  con- 
sequence, are  often  naturally,  i.  e  providentially,  altogether  as  fatal 
as  misconduct  occasioned  by  heedless  inattention  to  what  we  cer 
tainly  know,  or  disregarding  it  from  overbearing  passion. 

Several  of  the  observations  here  made  may  well  seem  strange, 
perhaps  unintelligible,  to  many  good  men.  But  if  the  persons  for 
whose  sake  they  are  made  think  so— persons  who  object  as  above, 
and  throw  oft*  all  regard  to  religion  under  pretence  of  want  of  evir 
ilence,  I  desire  them  to  consider  again  whether  their  thinking  so  be 
owing  to  any  thing  unintelligible  in  these  observations,  or  to  their 
own  not  having  such  a  sense  of  religion  and  serious  solicitude  about 
it  as  even  their  state  of  scepticism  does  in  all  reason  require.  It 
ought  to  be  forced  upon  the  reflection  of  these  persons,  that  our 
nature  and  condition  necessarily  require  us,  in  the  daily  course  of 
life,  to  act  upon  evidence  much  lower  than  M'hat  is  commonly  called 
probable;  to  guard  not  only  against  what  we  fully  believe  will,  but 
also  ^.gainst  what  we  think  it  supposable  niay,  happen:  and  to  engage 
in  pursuits  when  the  probability  is  greatly  against  success,  if  it  be 
credible  that  possibly  we  may  succeed  in  them. 


Ch\p.  VII.  Qf  the  particular  Evidence^  ^e.  175 


CHAP.  VII. 


Of  the  particular  Evidence  for  Cfiristianity. 

THE  presumptions  against  revelation,  and  objections  against  the 
general  scheme  of  Christianity  and  particular  things  reiati.'i^  to  it, 
being  removed,  there  remains  to  be  considered  what  positive  evidence 
we  have  for  the  truth  of  it,  chiefly  in  order  to  see  what  the  analogy  of 
nature  suggests  with  regard  to  that  evideuce  and  the  objections 
against  it,  or  to  see  what  it  is,  and  is  allowed  to  be,  the  plain  natural 
rule  of  judgment  and  of  action,  in  our  texnporal  concerns,  in  cases 
where  we  have  the  same  kind  of  evidence  and  the  same  kind  of  objec- 
tions against  it  that  we  have  in  the  case  before  us. 

Now  in  the  evidence  of  Christianity  there  seem  to  be  several 
things  of  great  weight,  not  reducible  to  the  head  either  of  miracles 
or  the  completion  of  prophecy,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
words.  But  these  two  are  its  direct  and  fundamental  proofs,  and 
those  other  things,  however  considerable  they  are,  yet  ought  never  to 
be  urged  apart  from  its  direct  proofs,  but  always  to  be  joined  with 
them.  Thus  the  evidence  of  Christianity  will  be  a  long  series  of 
things,  reaching,  as  it  seems,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  the 
present  time,  of  great  variety  and  compass,  taking  in  both  the  direct 
and  also  the  collateral  proofs,  and  making  up.  all  of  them  togetl^er, 
one  argument^  the  conviction  arising  from  which  kind  of  proof  may 
be  compared  to  what  we  call  the  effect  in  architefcture  or  other  works 
of  art,  a  result  from  a  great  number  of  things  so  and  so  disposed, 
and  taken  into  one  view.  I  shall  therefore,  first,  make  some  obser- 
vations relating  to  miracles  and  the  appearing  completions  of  proph- 
ecy, and  consider  what  analogy  suggests  in  answer  to  the  objections 
brought  against  this  evidence.  And,  secondly,  I  shall  endeavor  to 
give  some  account  of  the  general  argument  now  mentioned,  consis- 
ting both  of  the  direct  and  collateral  evidence,  considered  as  making 
up  one  argument;  this  being  the  kind  of  proof  upon  which  we  deter- 
mine most  questions  of  difficulty,  concerning  common  facts,  alleged 
to  have  happened  or  seeming  likely  to  happen,  especially  questions 
relating  to  conduct. 

First,  I  shall  make  some  observations  upon  the  direct  proof  of 
Christianity  from  miracles  and  prophecy,  and  upon  the  objection* 
alleged  against  it. 

I.  Now  the  following  observations  relating  to  the  historical  evi- 
dence of  miracles  wrought  in  attestation  of  Christianity  appear  to 
be  of  great  weight.  . 

1.  The  Old  Testament  affords  us  the  same  historical  evidence  of 
the  miracles  of  Moses  and  of  the  prophets,  as  of  the  common  civil 
history  of  Moses  and  the  kings  of  Israel,  or  as  of  the  aftairs  of  th^ 


IM  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  II. 

Jewish  nation.  And  the  Gospels  and  the  *Scts  afford  us  the  same 
histurical  evidence  of  the  miracles  of  Christ  and  the  apostles,  as  of 
the  common  matters  related  in  them.  This  indeed  could  not  have 
been  affirmed  by  any  reasonable  man,  if  the  authors  of  these  books, 
like  many  other  historians,  had  appeared  to  make  an  entertaijiing 
manner  of  writing  their  aim,  though  they  had  interspersed  miracles 
in  their  works,  at  proper  distances  and  upon  proper  occasions.  These 
might  have  animated  a  dull  relation,  amused  the  reader,  and  enga- 
ged his  attention.  And  the  same  account  would  naturally  have 
been  given  of  them  as  of  the  speeches  and  descriptions  of  such 
authors;  the  same  account,  in  a  manner,  as  is  to  be  given  why  the 
poets  make  use  of  wonders  and  prodigies.  But  the  facts,  both  mirac- 
ulous and  natural,  in  Scripture,  are  related  in  plain  unadorned  nar- 
ratives, and  both  of  them  appear,  in  all  respects,  to  stand  upon  the 
same  foot  of  historical  evidence.  Farther — some  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture, containing  an  account  of  miracles  fully  sufficient  to  prove  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  are  quoted  as  genuine,  from  the  age  in  which 
they  are  said  to  be  written,  down  to  the  present;  and  no  other  parts 
of  them,  material  in  the  present  question,  are  omitted  to  be  quoted 
in  such  manner  as  to  afford  any  sort  of  proof  of  their  not  being 
genuine.  And  as  common  history,  when  called  in  question  in  any 
instance,  may  often  be  greatly  confirmed  by  cotemporary  or  subse- 
quent events  more  known  and  acknowledged,  and  as  the  common 
Scripture  history,  like  many  others,  is  thus  confirmed — so  likewise 
is  the  miraculous  history  of  it,  not  only  in  particular  instances,  but 
in  general.  For  the  establishment  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  reli- 
gions, which  were  events  cotemporary  with  the  mitacles  related  to 
be  wrought  in  attestation  of  both,  or  subsequent  to  them,  these  events 
are  just  what  we  should  have  expected,  upon  supposition  such  mira- 
cles were  really  wrought  to  attest  the  truth  of  those  religions.  These 
miracles  are  a  satisfactory  account  of  those  events;  of  which  n» 
other  satisfactory  account  can  be  given,  nor  any  account  at  all  but 
what  is  imaginary  merely  and  invented.  It  is  to  be  added,  that  the 
most  obvious,  the  most  easy  and  direct  account  of  this  history,  how 
it  came  to  be  written  and  received  in  the  world,  as  a  true  history,  is, 
that  it  really  is  so;  nor  can  any  other  account  of  it  be  easy  and 
direct.  Now,  though  an  account  not  at  all  obvious,  but  very  far  fetch- 
ed and  indirect,  may  indeed  be,  and  often  is,  the  true  account  of 
a  matter — yet  it  cannot  be  admitted  on  the  authority  of  its  being  as- 
serted. Mere  guess,  supposition,  and  possibility^,  when  opposed  to 
historical  evidence,  prove  nothing  but  that  historical  evidence  is  not 
demonstrative. 

Now  the  just  consequence  from  all  this,  I  think,  is,  that  the  scrip- 
ture history  in  general  is  to  be  admitted  as  an  authentic  genuine  his- 
tory, till  somewhat  positive  be  alleged  sufiicient  to  invalidate  it.  But 
no  man  will  deny  the  consequence  to  be,  that  it  cannot  be  rejected, 
or  thrown  by  as  of  no  authority,  till  it  cart  be  proved  to  be  of  none; 
even  though  the  evidence  now  mentioned  for  its  authority  were 
doubtful.  This  evidence  may  be  confronted  by  historical  evidence 
on  the  other  sid«,  if  there  be  any;  or  general  incredibility  in  the 
things  related,  or  inconsistence  in  the  general  turn  of  the  history, 
v/ould  prove  it  to  be  of  no  authority.     But  since,  upon  the  face  of 


w 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity.  175 

the  matter,  upon  a  first  and  general  view,  the  appearance  is  that  it 
is  aa  authentic  history,  it  cannot  be  determined  to  be  fictitious  with- 
out some  proof  that  it  is  so.  And  the  following  observations,  in 
support  of  these  and  coincident  with  them,  will  greatly  confirm  the 
historical  evidence  for  the  truth  of  Christianity. 

2.  The  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  from  the  nature  of  epistolary- 
writing,  and  moreover  from  several  of  them  being  written,  not  to  par- 
ticular persons,  but  to  churches,  carry  in  them  evidences  of  their 
being  genuine,  beyond  what  can  be  in  a  mere  historical  narrative, 
left  to  the  world  at  large.  This  evidence,  joined  with  that  which 
they  have  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  New  Testament,  seems 
not  to  leave  so  much  as  any  particular  pretence  for  denying  their 
genuineness,  considered  as  an  ordinary  matter  of  fact,  or  of  criti- 
cism; 1  say  particular  pretence  for  denying  it,  because  any  single 
fact,  of  such  a  kind  and  such  antiquity,  may  have  general  doubts 
raised  concerning  it,  from  the  very  nature  of  human  affairs  and  human 
testimony.  There  is  also  to  be  mentioned,  a  distinct  and  particular 
evidence  of  the  genuineness  of  the  epistle  chiefly  referred  to  here, 
the  first  to  the  Corinthians,  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is  quoted 
by  Clemens  Ronianus,  in  an  epistle  of  his  own  to  that  church.*  Now 
these  epistles  afford  a  proof  ot  Christianity;  detached  from  all  others, 
vvhich  is,  I  think,  a  thing  of  weight,  and  also  a  proof  of  a  nature  and 
kind  peculiar  to  itself.     For, 

In  them  the  author  declares,  that  he  received  the  Gospel  in  gen- 
eral, and  the  institution  of  the  Communion  in  particular,  not  from 
the  rest  of  the  apostles,  or  jointly  together  with  them,  but  alone,  from 
Christ  himself,  whom  he  declares  likewise,  conformably  to  the  history 
in  the  ^ctSf  that  he  saw  after  his  ascension-t  So  that  the  testimony 
of  St.  Paul  is  to  be  considered  as  detached  from  that  of  the  rest  of 
the  apostles. 

And  he  declares  farther,  that  he  was  endued  with  a  power  of 
working  miracles,  as  what  was  publicly  known  to  those  very  people- 
speaks  of  frequent  and  great  variety  of  miraculous  gifts,  as  then 
subsisting  in  those  very  churches  to  which  he  was  writing,  which  he 
was  reproving  for  several  irregularities,  and  where  he  had  personal 
opposers;  he  mentions  these  gifts  incidentally,  in  the  most  easy  man- 
ner and  without  effort,  by  way  of  reproof  to  those  who  had  them,  for 
their  indecent  use  of  them,  and  by  way  of  depreciating  them,  in  com- 
parison of  moral  virtues;  in  short,  he  speaks  to  these  churches,  of 
these  miraculous  powers,  in  the  manner  any  one  would  speak  to  an- 
other of  a  thing,  which  was  as  familiar  and  as  much  known  in  com- 
mon to  them  both,  as  any  thing  in  the  world. :f  And  this,  as  hath 
been  observed  by  several  persons,  is  surely  a  very  considerable  thing. 

3.  It  is  an  acknowledged  historical  fact,  that  Christianity  of- 
fered itself  to  the  world,  and  demanded  to  be  received,  upon  the 
allegation,  i.  e.  as  unbelievers  would  speak,  upon  the  pretence  of 
miracles,  publicly  wrought  to  attest  the  truth  of  it  in  such  an  age, 
and  that  it  was  actually  received  by  great  numbers  in  that  very  age, 

•  Clem.  Rom.  Ep.  1.  c.  47.        f  Gal.  i.  1  Cor,  xL  23  &c  1  Cor  xv.  8. 
t  Rom.  XV  19.  1  Cor  xii  8,  9, 10—28,  &c.  and  ehap.  xiii.  1,  2,  8,  and  {he  whole 
xiYth  chap.  2  Cor.  xii.  13, 13.  Gal.  iii.  2.  5. 


176  Of  the  particular  Evidence  sPaut  II.; 

and  upon  the  professed  belief  of  the  reality  of  these  miracles.  And 
Christianity,  including  the  dispensation  of  the  Old  Testament,  seems 
distinguished  by  this  from  all  other  religions.  1  mean,  that  this  does 
not  appear  to  be  the  case  with  regard  to  any  other;  for  surely  it  will 
not  be  supposed  to  lie  upon  any  person,  to  prove  by  positive  histori- 
cal evidence  that  it  was  not.  It  does  in  no  sort  appear  that  Mahom- 
etanism  was  first  received  in  the  world  upon  the  foot  of  supposed 
miracles,*  j.  e-  public  ones;  for,  as  revelation  is  itself  miraculous,  all 
pretence  to  it  must  necessarily  imply  some  pretence  of  miracles. 
And  it  is  a  known  fact  that  it  was  immediately,  at  the  very  first,  pro- 
pagated by  other  means.  And  as  particular  institutions,  whether  in 
paganism  or  popery,  said  to  be  confirmed  by  miracles  after  those 
institutions  had  obtained,  are  not  to  the  purpose — so  were  there  what 
might  be  railed  historical  proof,  that  any  of  them  were  introduced 
by  u  supposed  divine  command,  believed  to  be  attested  by  miracles — 
these  would  not  be  in  any  wise  parallel.  For  single  things  of  this 
sort  are  easy  to  be  accounted  for,  after  parties  are  formed  and  have 
power  in  their  hands,  and  the  leaders  of  them  are  in  veneration  with 
the  multitude,  and  political  interests  are  blended  with  religious 
claims  and  religious  distinctions.  But  before  any  thing  of  this  kind, 
for  a  few  perscns,  and  those  of  the  lowest  rank,  all  at  once  to  bring 
over  such  gieat  numbers  to  a  new  religion,  and  get  it  to  be  received 
upon  the  particular  evidence  of  miracles — this  is  quite  another  thing. 
And  I  think  it  will  be  allowed  by  any  fair  adversary,  that  the  fact 
now  mentioned,  taking  in  all  the  circumstances  of  it,  is  peculiar  to 
the  Christian  religion.  However,  the  fact  itself  is  allowed  that  Chris- 
tianity obtained,  i.  e.  was  professed  to  be  received  in  the  world,  upon 
the  belief  of  miracles,  immediately  in  the  age  in  which  it  is  said  those 
miracles  were  wrought;  or  that  this  is  what  its  first  converts  would 
have  alleged,  as  the  reason  for  their  embracing  it.  Now  certainly  it 
is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  such  numbers  of  men,  in  the  most  distant 
parts  of  the  world,  should  forsake  the  religion  of  their  country  in 
which  they  had  been  educated,  separate  themselves  from  their  friends, 
particularly  in  their  festival  shows  and  solemnities,  to  which  the 
common  people  are  so  greatly  addicted,  and  which  were  of  a  nature 
to  engage  them  much  more  than  any  thing  of  that  sort  amongst  us, 
and  embrace  a  religion  which  could  not  but  expose  them  to  many 
inconveniences,  and  indeed  must  have  been  a  giving  up  the  world  in 
a  great  degree,  even  from  the  very  first,  and  before  the  empire  en- 
gaged in  form  against  them — it  cannot  be  supposed  that  such  num- 
bers should  make  so  great,  and,  to  say  the  least,  so  inconvenient  a 
change  in  their  whole  institution  of  life,  unless  they  were  really  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  those  miracles,  upon  the  knowledge  or  belief  of 
which  they  professed  to  make  it.  And  it  will,  I  suppose,  readily  be 
acknowledged,  that  the  generality  of  the  first  converts  to  Christianity 
must  have  believed  them;  that  as  by  becoming  Christians  they  de- 
clared to  the  world  they  were  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  those  miracles: 
so  this  declaration  was  to  be  credited.  And  this  their  testimony  is 
the  same  kind  of  evidence  for  those  miracles  as  if  they  had  put  it  in 
writing,  and  these  writings  had  come  down  to  us.    And  it  is  real 

*  See  the  Koran^  c  xiii.  and  c.  svii; 


Chap.  VI I.  for  Christianity.  177 

evidence,  because  it  is  of  facts  which  they  had  capacity  and  full  op- 
portunity to  inform  themselves  of.  It  is  also  distinct  from  the  direct 
or  express  historical  evidence,  though  it  is  of  the  same  kind;  and  it 
would  be  allowed  to  be  distinct  in  all  cases.  For  were  a  fact  ex- 
pressly related  by  one  or  more  ancient  historians,  and  disputed  in 
after  ages;  that  this  fact  is  acknowledged  to  have  been  believed  by 
great  numbers  of  the  age  in  which  the  historian  says  it  was  done, 
would  be  allowed  an  additional  proof  of  such  fact,  quite  distinct  from 
the  express  testimony  of  the  historian.  The  credulity  of  mankind 
is  acknowledged,  and  the  suspicions  of  mankind  ought  to  be  acknowl- 
edged too,  and  their  backwardness  even  to  believe,  and  greater  still 
to  practice,  what  makes  against  their  interest.  And  it  must  partic- 
ularly be  remertibered,  that  education,  and  prejudice,  and  authority, 
were  against  Christianity,  in  the  age  I  am  speaking  of.  So  that  the 
immediate  conversion  of  such  numbers,  is  a  real  presumption  of 
somewhat  more  than  human  in  this  matter;  I  say  presumption,  for  it 
is  not  alleged  as  a  proof  alone  and  by  itself.  Nor  need  any  one  of 
the  things  mentioned  in  this  chapter  be  considered  as  a  proof  by 
itself;  and  yet  all  of  them  together  may  be  one  of  the  strongest. 

Upon  the  whole — as  there  is  large  historical  evidence,  both  direct 
and  circumstantial,  of  miracles  wrought  in  attestation  of  Christian- 
ity, collected  by  those  who  have  writ  upon  the  subject — it  lies  upon 
unbelievers  to  shew,  why  this  evidence  is  not  to  be  credited.  This 
way  of  speaking  is,  I  think,  just,  and  what  persons  who  write  in  de- 
fence of  religion  naturally  fall  into.  Yet,  in  a  matter  of  such  un- 
speakable importance,  the  proper  question  is,  not  whom  it  lies  upon, 
according  to  the  rules  of  argument,  to  maintain  or  confute  objections, 
but  whether  there  really  are  any  against  this  evidence,  sufficient  in 
reason  to  destroy  the  credit  of  it.  However,  unbelievers  seem  to 
take  upon  them  the  part  of  shewing  that  there  are. 

They  allege,  that  numberless  enthusiastic  people,  in  different  ages 
and  countries,  expose  themselves  to  the  same  difficulties  which  the 
primitive  Christians  did,  and  are  ready  to  give  up  their  lives  for  the 
most  idle  follies  imaginable.  But  it  is  not  very  clear  to  what  pur- 
pose this  objection  is  brought.  For  every  one  surely,  in  every  case, 
must  distinguish  between  opinions  and  facts.  And  though  testimony 
is  no  proof  of  enthusiastic  opinions,  or  of  any  opinions  at  all,  yet  it  is 
allowed  tn  all  other  cases  to  be  a  proof  of  facts.  And  a  person's 
laying  down  his  life  in, attestation  of  facts  or  of  opinions,  is  the 
strongest  proof  of  his  believing  them.  And  if  the  apostles  and  their 
cotemporaries  did  believe  the  facts,  in  attestation  of  which  they  ex- 
posed themselves  to  sufferings  and  death,  this  their  belief  or  rather 
knowledge,  must  be  a  proof  of  those  facts;  for  they  were  such  as 
came  under  the  observation  of  their  senses.  And  though  it  is  not  of 
equal  weight,  yet  it  is  of  weight  that  the  martyrs  of  the  next  age, 
notwithstanding  they  were  not  eye  witnesses  of  those  facts,  as  were 
the  apostles  and  their  cotemporaries,  had,  however,  full  opportunity 
to  inform  themselves  whether  they  were  true  or  not,  and  gave  equal 
proof  of  their  believing  them  to  be  true. 

But  enthusiasm,  it  is  said,  greatly  weakens  the  evidence  of  testi- 
mony even  for  facts,  in  matters  relating  to  religion;  some  seem  to 
think  it  totally  and  absolutely  destroys  th?.  evidence  of  testimony 


17^  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  II. 

upon  this  subject.     And  indeed  the  powers  of  enthusiasm,  and  of 
diseases  too  which  operate  in  a  like  manner,  are  very  wonderful  in 
particular  instances.     But  if  great  numbers  of  men,  not  appearing  in 
any  peculiar  degree  weak,  nor  under  any  peculiar  suspicion  of  negli- 
gence, aifirm  that  they  saw  and  heard  such  things  plainly  with  their 
eyes  and  their  ears,  and  are  admitted   to  be  in  earnest — such  testi- 
mony is  evidence  of  the  strongest  kind  we  can  have  for  any  matter 
of  fact.     Yet  possibly  it  may  be  overcome,  strong  as  it  is,  by  incredi- 
bility in  the  things  thus  attested,  or  by  contrary  testimony.     And  in 
an  instance  where  one  thought  it  was  so  overcome,  it  might  be  just 
to  consider,  how  far  such  evidence  could  be  accounted  for  by  enthu- 
siasii;  for  it  seems  as  it  no  other  imaginable  account  were  to  be  given 
of  it.     But  until  such  incredibility  be  shewn,  or  contrary  testimony 
produced,  it  cannot  surely  be  expected,  that  so  far  fetched,  so  indi- 
rect and  wonderful  an  account  of  such  testimony  as  that  of  enthusi- 
asm must  be;  an  account  so  strange,  that  the  generality  of  mankind 
can  scarce  be  made  to  understand  what  is  meant  by  it:  it  cannot,  I 
say,  be  expected  that  such  account  will  be  admitted  of  such  evidence, 
when  there  is  this  direct,  easy  and  obvious  account  of  it,  that  pe()ple 
really  saw  and  heard  a  thing  not  incredible,  which   they  affirm  sin- 
cerely and  with  full  assurance  they  did  see  and   hear.     Granting 
then  that  enthusiasm  is  not  (strictly  speaking)  an  absurd  but  a  possi- 
ble account  of  such  testimony,  it  is  manifest  that  the  very  mention  of 
it  goes  upon  the   previous  supposition  that  the  things  so  attested  are 
incredible,  and  therefore  need  not  be  considered  until  they  are  shewn 
to  be  so.     Much   less  need  it  be  considered  after  the  contrary  has 
been  proved.     And  I  think  it  has  been  proved  to  full  satisfaction, 
that  there  is  no  incredibility  in  a   revelation  in  general,  or  in  such 
an  one  as  the  Christian  in  particular.     However,  as  religion  is  sup- 
posed peculiarly  liable  to  enthusiasm,  it  may  just  be  observed,  that 
prejudices  almost  without  number  and  without  name,  romance,  affec- 
tation, humor,  a  desire  to  engage  attention  or  to  surprize,  the  party 
spirit,  custom,  little  competitions,  unaccountable  likings  and  dislik- 
ing— these  influence  men  strongly  in  common  matters.    And  as  these 
prejudices  are  often  scarce  known  or  reflected  upon  by  the  persons 
themselves  who  are  influenced  by  them,  they  are  to  be  considered  as 
influences  of  a  like  kind  to  enthusiasm.     Yet  human   testimony  in 
common  matters  is  naturally  and  justly  believed  notwithstanding. 

It  is  intimated  farther,  in  a  more  refined  way  of  observation,  that 
though  it  should  be  proved  that  the  apostles  and  first  Christians  could 
not,  in  some  respects,  be  deceived  themselves,  and  in  other  respects 
cannot  be  thought  to  have  intended  to  impose  upon  the  world— yet  it 
will  not  follow  that  their  general  testimony  is  to  be  believed,  though 
truly  handed  down  to  us;  because  they  might  still  in  part,  i.  e.  in 
other  respects,  be  deceived  themselves,  and  in  part  also  designedly 
impose  upon  others;  which,  it  is  added,  is  a  thing  very  credible,  from 
that  mixture  of  real  enthusiasm  and  real  knavery  to  be  met  with  in 
the  same  characters.  And  I  must  confess  I  think  the  matter  of  fact, 
contained  in  this  observation  upon  mankind,  is  not  to  be  denied: 
and  that  somewhat  very  much  a-kin  to  it,  is  often  supposed  in  Scrip- 
ture as  a  very  common  case,  and  most  severely  reproved.  But  it 
were  to  have  been  expected,  that  persons  capable  of  applying  thi? 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity.  179^ 

observation  as  applied  in  the  objection,  might  also  frequently  have 
met  with  the  like  mixed  character,  in  instances  where  religion  was 
quite  out  of  the  case.  The  thing  plainly  is,  that  mankind  are  nat- 
urally endued  with  reason,  or  capacity  of  distinguishing  between 
truth  and  falsehood;  and  as  naturally  they  are  endued  with  veracity, 
or  a  regard  to  truth  in  what  they  say:  but  from  many  occasions, 
they  are  liable  to  be  prejudiced  and  biassed  and  deceived  themselves, 
and  capable  of  intending  to  deceive  others,  in  every  different  degree; 
insomuch  that  as  we  are  all  liable  to  be  deceived  by  prejudice,  so 
likewise  it  seems  to  be  not  an  uncommon  thing  for  persons,  who 
from  their  regard  to  truth  would  not  invent  a  lie  entirely  without  any 
foundation  at  all,  to  propagate  it  with  heightening  circumstances, 
after  it  is  once  invented  and  set  agoing.  And  others,  though  they 
would  not  propagate  a  lie,  yet,  which  is  a  lower  degree  of  falsehood^ 
will  let  it  pass  without  contradiction.  But  notwithstanding  all  this, 
human  testimony  remains  sf  ill  a  natural  ground  of  assent,  and  this 
assent  a  natural  principle  of  action. 

It  is  objected  farther,  that  however  it  has  happened,  the  fact  is, 
that  mankind  have,  in  different  ages,  been  strangely  deluded  with 
pretences  to  miracles  and  wonders.  But  it  is  by  no  means  to  be 
admitted  that  they  have  been  oftener,  or  are  at  all  more  liable  to  be 
deceived  by  these  pretences  than  by  others. 

It  is  added,  that  there  is  a  very  considerable  degree  of  historical 
evidence  for  miracles,  which  are  on  all  hands  acknowledged  to  be 
fabulous.  But  suppose  there  were  even  the  like  historical  evidence 
for  these,  to  what  there  is  for  those  alleged  in  proof  of  Christianity, 
which  yet  is  in  no  wise  allowed,  but  suppose  this — the  consequence 
would  not  be,  that  the  evidence  of  the  latter  is  not  to  be  admitted. 
Nor  is  there  a  man  in  the  world  who,  in  common  cases,  would  con- 
clude thus.  For  what  would  such  a  conclusion  really  amount  to 
but  this,  that  evidence  confuted  by  contrary  evidence,  or  any  way 
overbalanced,  destroys  the  credibility  of  other  evidence,  neither  con- 
futed nor  overbalanced?  To  argue  that  because  there  is,  if  there  were, 
like  evidence  from  testimony  for  miracles  acknowledged  false,  as  for 
those  in  attestation  of  Christianity,  therefore  the  evidence  in  the  lat- 
ter case  is  not  to  be  credited — this  is  the  same  as  to  argue,  that  if 
two  men  of  equally  good  reputation  had  given  evidence  in  different 
cases  no  way  connected,  and  one  of  them  had  been  convicted  of  per- 
jury, this  confuted  the  testimony  of  the  other. 

Upon  the  whole  then,  the  general  observation  that  human  crea- 
tures are  so  liable  to  be  deceived,  from  enthusiasm  in  religion,  and 
principles  equivalent  to  enthusiam  in  common  matters,  and  in  both 
from  negligence;  and  that  they  are  so  capable  of  dishonestly  endeav- 
oring to  deceive  others — this  does  indeed  weaken  the  evidence  of  tes- 
timony in  all  cases,  but  does  not  destroy  it  in  any.  And  these  things 
will  appear,  to  different  men,  to  weaken  the  evidence  of  testimony 
in  different  degrees;  in  degrees  proportionable  to  the  observations 
they  have  made,  or  the  notions  they  have  any  way  taken  up.  concern' 
ing  the  weakness  and  negligence  and  dishonesty  of  mankind,  or  con- 
cerning the  powers  of  enthusiasm,  and  prejudices  equivalent  to  it. 
But  it  seems  to  me  that  people  do  not  know  what  they  say,  who 
iaffirm  these  things  to  destroy  the  evidence  from  testimony,  which  we 


180  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Bart  II. 

have  oFthe  truth  of  Christianity.  Nothing  can  destroy  the  evidence 
of  testimony  in  any  case,  but  a  proof  or  probability  that  persons  are 
not  competent  judges  of  the  facts  to  which  they  give  testimony,  or 
that  they  are  actually  under  some  indirect  influence  in  giving  it  in 
such  particular  case.  Until  this  be  made  out,  the  natural  laws  of 
human  actions  require  that  testimony  be  admitted.  It  can  never  be 
sufficient  to  overthrow  direct  historical  evidence,  indolently  to  say, 
that  there  are  so  many  principles  from  whence  men  are  liable  to  he 
deceived  themselves,  and  disposed  to  deceive  others,  especially  in 
matters  of  religion,  that  one  knows  not  ivhat  to  believe.  And  it  is 
surprizing  persons  can  help  reflecting,  that  this  very  manner  of 
speaking  supposes  they  are  not  satisfied  that  there  is  nothing  in  the 
evidence  of  which  they  speak  thus;  or  that  they  can  avoid  observing, 
ifthey  domake  this  reflection,  that  it  is  on  such  a  subject  a  very 
material  one.* 

And  over  against  all  these  objections  is  to  he  set  the  importance  of 
Christianity,  as  what  must  have  engaged  the  attention  of  its  first  con- 
verts, so  as  to  have  rendered  them  less  liable  to  be  deceived  from 
carelessness  than  they  would  in  common  matters;  and  likewise  the 
strong  obligations  to  veracity  which  their  religion  laid  them  under; 
so  that  the  first  and  most  obvious  presumption  is,  that  they  could  not 
be  deceived  themselves,  nor  would  deceive  others.  And  this  pre- 
sumption in  this  degree  is  peculiar  to  the  testimony  we  have  been 
considering. 

in  argument,  assertions  are  nothing  in  themselves,  and  have  an 
air  of  positiveness  which  sornetimes  is  not  very  easy;  yet  they  are 
necessary,  and  necessary  to  be  repeated,  in  order  to  connect  a  dis- 
course, and  distinctly  to  lay  before  the  view  of  the  reader  what  is 
proposed  to  be  proved,  and  what  is  left  as  pioved.  Kow  the  conclu- 
sion from  the  foregoing  observations*  is,  1  think,  beyond  all  doubt, 
this — that  unbelievers  must  be  forced  to  admit  the  external  evidence 
for  Christianity,  i.  e.  the  proof  of  miracles  wrought  to  attest  it,  to  be 
of  real  weight  and  very  considerable,  though  thej  cannot  allow  it  to 
be  sufficient  to  convince  them  of  the  reality  of  those  miracles.  And 
as  they  must  in  all  reason  admit  this,  so  it  seems  to  me,  that  upon 
consideration  they  would  in  fact  admit  it;  those  of  them,  I  mean,*  who 
know  any  thing  at  all  of  the  matter;  in  like  manner  as  persons,  in 
many  cases,  own  they  see  strong  evidence  from  testimony  for  the 
truth  of  things,  which  yet  they  cannot  be  convinced  are  true — cases, 
suppose,  where  there  is  cohtrary  testimony,  or  things  which  they 
think,  whether  with  or  without  reason,  to  be  incredible:  But  there 
?s  no  testimony  contrary  to  that  which  we  have  been  considering; 
and  it  has  been  fully  proved  that  there  is  no  incredibility  in  Chris- 
tianity in  general,  or  in  any  part  of  it. 

II,  As  to  the  evidence  for  Christianity  from  prophecy,  I  shall  only 
make  some  few  general  observations  which  are  suggested  by  the  anal- 
ogy of  nature,  i  e.  by  the  acknowledged  natural  rules  of  judging  in 
common  matters,  concerning  evidence  of  a  like  kind  to  this  from 
prophecy. 

1.  The  obscurity  or  unintelligibleness  of  one  part  of  a  prophecy 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity.  181 

does  not,  in  any  degree,  invalidate  the  proof  for  foresight,  arising 
•Vora  the  appearing  completion  of  tliose  other  parts,  which  are  under- 
stood. For  the  case  is  evidently  the  same  as  if  those  parts,  which 
are  not  understood,  were  lost  or  written  at  all,  or  written  in  an  un- 
known tongue.  Whether  tliis  observation  be  commonly  attended  to 
or  not,  it  is  so  evident,  that  one  can  scarce  bring  one's  self  to  set 
down  an  instance  in  common  matters  to  exemplify  it.  However, 
suppose  a  writing,  partly  in  cypher,  and  partly  in  plain  words  at 
length,  and  that  in  the  part  one  understood  there  appeared  mention 
of  several  known  facts,  it  would  never  come  into  any  man's  thoughts 
to  imagine,  that  if  he  understood  the  whole,  perhaps  he  might  find 
that  those  facts  were  not  in  reality  known  by  the  writer.  Indeed, 
both  in  this  example  and  the  thing  intended  to  be  exemplified  by  it, 
our  not  understanding  the  whole  (the  whole  suppose  of  a  sentence  or 
a  paragraph)  might  sometimes  occasion  a  doubt,  whether  one  under- 
stood the  literal  meaning  of  suph  a  partj  but  this  comes  under  another 
consideration. 

For  the  same  reason,  though  a  man  should  be  incapable,  for  want 
of  learning,  or  opportunities  of  enquiry,  or  from  not  having  turned 
his  studies  this  way,  even  so  much  as  -o  judge,  whether  particular 
prophecies  have  been  throughout  completely  fulfilled — yet  he  may 
see  in  general,  that  they  have  been  fulfilled  to  such  a  degree  as, 
upon  very  good  ground,  to  be  convinced  of  foresight  more  than  hu- 
man in  such  prophecies,  and  of  such  events  being  intended  by  them. 
For  the  same  reason  also,  though  by  means  of  the  deficiencies  in 
civil  history,  and  the  diflferent  accounts  of  historians,  the  most 
learned  should  not  be  able  to  make  out  to  satisfaction,  that  such 
parts  of  the  prophetic  history  have  been  minutely  and  throughout 
fulfilled' — yet  a  very  strong  proof  of  foresight  may  arise  from  that 
gieneral  completion  of  them  which  is  made  out;  as  much  proof  of 
foresight,  perhaps,  as  the  Giver  of  prophecy  intended  should  ever  be 
afforded  by  such  parts  of  prophecy. 

£,  A  long  series  of  prophecy  being  applicable  to  sucli  and  such 
events,  is  itself  a  proof  that  it  was  intended  of  them;  as  tl;ie  rules 
by  which  we  naturally  judge  and  determine  in  common  cases  par- 
allel to  this  will  shew.  This  observation  I  make  in  answer  to  the 
common  objection  against  the  application  of  the  prophecies,  that  con- 
sidering each  of  them  distinctly  by  itself,  it  does  not  at  all  appear, 
that  they  were  intended  of  those  particular  events  to  which  they  are 
applied  by  Christians;  and  therefore  it  is  to  be  supposed  that,  if  they 
meant  any  thing,  they  were  intended  of  other  events  unknown  to 
us,  and  not  of  these  at  all. 

Now  there  are  two  kinds  of  writing  which  bear  a  great  resem- 
blance to  prophecy,  with  respect  to  the  matter  before  us;  the  mytho- 
logical, and  the  satirical,  where  the  satire  is  to  a  certain  degree  con- 
cealed. And  a  man  might  be  assured,  that  he  understood  what  an 
author  intended  by  a  fable  or  parable,  related  without  any  application 
or  moral,  merely  from  seeing  it  to  be  easily  capable  of  such  applica- 
tion, and  that  such  a  moral  might  naturally  be  deduced  from  it. 
And  he  might  be  fully  assured,  that  such  persons  and  events  were 
intended  in  a  satirical  writing,  merely  from  its  being  applicable  to 
them.    And,  agreeably  to  the  last  observation,  he  might  be  in  a  good 


192  Of  th»  particular  Evidence  1*art  11. 

measure  satisfied  of  it,  though  he  were  not  enough  informed  in  affairs, 
or  in  the  story  of  such  persons,  to  understand  half  the  satire.  For, 
his  satisfaction  that  he  understood  the  meaning,  the  intended  mean- 
ing of  these  writings,  would  be  greater  or  less,  in  proportion  as  he 
saw  the  general  turn  of  them  to  be  capable  of  such  application,  and 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  particular  things  capable  of  it.  And 
thus,  if  a  long  series  of  prophecy  is  applicable  to  the  present  state 
of  the  church,  and  to  the  political  situations  of  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world,  some  thousand  years  after  these  prophecies  were  delivered, 
and  a  long  series  of  prophecy  delivered  before  the  coming  of  Christ 
is  applicable  to  him — these  things  are  in  themselves  a  proof,  that  the 
prophetic  history  was  intended  of  him,  and  of  those  events;  in  pro- 
portion as  the  general  turn  of  it  is  capable  of  such  application, 
and  to  the  number  and  variety  of  particular  prophecies  capable  of 
it.  And,  though  in  all  just  way  of  consideration,  the  appearing 
completion  of  prophecies  is  to  be  allowed  to  be  thus  explan- 
atory of,  and  to  determine  their  meaning — yet  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered farther,  that  the  ancient  Jews  applied  the  prophecies  to  a 
JVtessiah  before  his  coming,  in  much  the  same  manner  as  Chris- 
tians do  now;  and  that  the  primitive  Christians  interpreted  the 
prophecies  respecting  the  state  of  the  church  and  of  the  world  in 
the  last  ages  in  the  sense  which  the  event  seems  to  confirm  and 
verify.     And  from  these  things  it  may  be  made  to  appear, 

aS.  That  the  shewing  even  to  a  high  probability,  if  that  could  be, 
ihat  the  prophets  thought  of  some  other  events  in  such  and  such 
predictions,  and  not  those  at  all  which  Christians  allege  to  be  com- 
pletions of  those  predictions;  or  that  such  and  such  prophecies  are 
capable  of  being  applied  to  other  events,  than  those  to  which  Chris- 
tJ  ins  apply  them — that  this  would  not  confute  or  destroy  the  force 
of  the  argument  from  prophecy,  even  with  regard  to  those  very 
insfances.  For,  observe  how  this  matter  really  is.  If  one  knew 
such  a  person  to  be  the  sole  author  of  such  a  book,  and  was  certainly 
assured,  or  satisfied  to  any  degree,  that  one  knew  the  whole  of  what 
he  intended  in  it — one  should  be  assured  or  satisfied  to  such  a  degree, 
that  one  knew  the  whole  meaning  of  that  book;  for  the  meaning  of  a 
book  is  nothing  but  the  meaning  of  the  author.  But  if  one  knew 
a  person  to  have  compiled  a  book  out  of  memoirs,  which  he  received 
from  another  of  vastly  superior  knowiedgc  in  the  subject  of  it,  espe- 
cially if  it  were  a  book  full  of  great  intricacies  and  difficulties — it 
would  in  no  wise  follow  that  one  knew  the  whole  meaning  of  the 
book,  from  knowing  the  whole  meaning  of  the  compiler;  for  the  ori- 
ginal memoirs,  i.  e.  the  author  of  them,  miglit  have,  and  there  would 
be  no  degree  of  p-esumption  in  many  cases  against  supposing  him  to 
have,  some  farther  meaning  thar^  the  compiler  saw.  To  say  then  that 
the  Scriptures,  and  the  things  contained  in  them,  can  have  no  other 
or  farther  meaning  tlian  those  persons  thought  or  had,  who  first 
recited  or  wrote  them,  is  evidently  saying  that  those  persons  were 
the  original,  proper,  and  sole  authors  of  those  books,  i.  e.  that  they 
are  not  inspired;  which  is  absurd,  whilst  the  authority  of  these 
books  is  under  examination,  i.  e.  until  3'ou  have  determined  they  are 
of  no  divine  authority  at  all  Until  this  be  determined,  it  must  in 
all  reaso!)  be  suppo^f'd.  n^t  !nu''C'l  tlt?v*  they  havo.  fof  tu!<i  is  takins: 


Chap.  Vlf.  for  Christianity,  183 

for  granted  that  they  are  inspired,  but  that  they  may  have  some  far- 
ther meaning  than  what  the  compilers  saw  or  understood.  And 
upon  this  supposition  it  is  supposable  also,  that  this  farther  meaning 
may  be  fulfilled.  Now  events  corresponding  to  prophecies,  inter- 
preted in  a  different  meaning  from  that  in  which  the  prophets  are 
supposed  to  have  understood  them,  this  affords  in  a  manner  the  same 
proof,  that  this  diflierent  sense  was  originally  intended,  as  it  would 
have  afi'orded  if  the  prophets  had  not  understood  their  predictions 
in  the  sense  it  is  supposed  they  did;  because  there  is  no  presumption 
of  their  sense  of  them  being  the  whole  sense  of  them.  And  it  has 
been  already  shewn,  that  the  apparent  completions  of  prophecy 
must  be  allowed  to  be  explanatory  of  its  meaning.  So  that  the 
question  is,  whether  a  series  of  prophecy  has  been  fulfilled,  in  a 
natural  and  proper,  i.  e.  in  any  real  sense  of  the  words  of  it.  For 
such  completion  is  equally  a  proof  of  foresight  more  than  human, 
whether  the  prophets  are  or  are  not  supposed  to  have  understood  it 
in  a  different  sense.  I  say,  supposed;  for,  though  I  think  it  clear 
that  the  prophets  did  not  understand  the  full  meaning  of  their  pre- 
dictions, it  is  another  question  how  far  they  thoHght  they  did,  and 
in  what  sense  they  understood  them. 

Hence  may  be  seen  to  how  little  purpose  those  persons  busy 
themselves,  who  endeavor  to  prove  that  the  prophetic  history  is  ap- 
plicable to  events  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  written,  or  of  ages  be 
fore  it.  Indeed  to  have  proved  this  before  there  was  any  appear- 
ance of  a  farther  completion  of  it,  might  have  answered  some  pur- 
pose; for  it  might  have  prevented  the  expectation  of  any  such  far- 
ther completion.  Thus,  could  Porphyry  have  shewn  that  some 
principal  parts  of  the  book  of  Daniel,  for  instance,  the  seventh  verse 
of  the  seventh  chapter,  which  the  Christians  interpreted  of  the  latter 
ages,  was  applicable  to  events  which  happened  before  or  about  the 
age  of  Jlntiochiis  EpipJianes — this  might  have  prevented  them  from 
expecting  any  farther  completion  of  it.  And,  unless  there  was  then, 
as  I  think  there  must  have  been,  external  evidence  concerning  that 
book  more  than  is  come  down  to  us,  such  a  discovery  might  have 
been  a  stumbling  block  in  the  way  of  Christianity  itself;  consider- 
ing the  authority  which  our  Saviour  has  given  to  the  book  of  Daniel, 
and  how  much  the  general  scheme  of  Christianity  presupposes  the 
truth  of  it.  But  even  this  discovery,  had  tbere  been  any  such,* 
would  bt  of  very  little  weight  with  reasonable  men.  Now,  this  pas- 
sage, thus  applicable  to  events  before  the  age  of  Porphyry,  appears 
to  be  applicable  also  to  events  which  succeeded  the  dissolution  of 
the  Roman  empire.  I  mention  this,  not  at  all  as  intending  to  insin- 
uate, that  the  division  of  this  empire  into  ten  parts,  for  it  plainly 
was  divided  into  about  that  number,  were,  alone  and  by  itself,  of 
any  moment  in  verifying  the  prophetic  history;  but  only  a  an  exam- 
ple of  the  thing  I  am  speaking  of.    And  thus  upon  the  whole,  the 

•  It  ap\)ear3  that  Porphyry  did  nothing  worth  mentioning  in  this  way.  For  Jeromi 
9n  the  place  says,  Duas  posteriores  bestias — in  uno  Macedonum  regno  ponit*  And  as 
to  the  ten  kings,  Decern  reges  enumerat,  qui  fuerunt  sjevissimi:  ipsosque  reges  non 
unius  ponit  regni,  verbi  gratia,  Macedonia,  Syrise,  Asia  et  Egyptia;  sed  de  diversis  reg- 
nis  unvim  efficit  regnum  ordinem*  And  in  this  way  of  iuterpretation  anything  may  be 
made  of  any  thing- 


184  Of  the  partioular  Evidence  Part  II. 

matter  of  inquiry  evidently  must  be,  as  above  put,  whether  the 
prophecies  are  applicable  to  Christ;  and  to  the  present  state  of  the 
world  and  of  the  church,  applicable  in  such  a  degree  as  to  imply  fore- 
sight; not  whether  they  are  capable  of  any  other  application,  though 
I  know  no  pretence  for  saying  the  general  turn  of  them  is  capable 
of  any  other.  .  ' 

There  observations  are,  I  think,  just,  and  the  evidence  referred 
to  in  them  real,  though  there  may  be  people  who  will  not  accept  of 
such  imperfect  information  from  scripture.  Some  too  have  not  integ- 
rity and  regard  enough  to  truth,  to  attend  to  evidence  which  keeps 
the  mind  in  doubt,  perhaps  perplexity,  and  which  is  much  of  a  dif- 
ferent sort  from  what  they  expected.  And  it  plainly  requires  a 
degree  of  modesty  and  fairness,  beyond  what  every  one  has,  for  a 
man  to  say,  not  to  the  world,  but  to  himself,  that  there  is  a  real  ap- 
pearance of  somewhat  of  great  weight  in  this  matter,  though  he  is 
not  able  thoroughly  to  satisfy  himself  about  it:  but  it  shall  have  its 
influence  upon  him,  in  proportion  to  its  appearing  reality  and  weight. 
It  is  much  more  easy,  and  more  falls  in  with  the  negligence,  presump- 
tion and  wilfulness  of  the  generality  ,to  determine  at  once, with  a  deci- 
cisive  air,  there  is  nothing  in  it.  The  prejudices  arising  from  that  ab- 
solute contempt  and  scorn  with  which  this  evidence  is  treated  in  the 
\vorld,  I  do  not  mentioti.  For  what  indeed  can  be  said  to  persons', 
who  are  weak  enough  in  their  understanding  to  think  this  any  pre- 
sumption agamst  it,  or  if  they  do  not,  are  yet  weak  enough  in  their 
temper  to  be  influenced  by  such  prejudices,  upon  such  a  subject.'' 

I  shall  now,  secondly,  endeavor  to  give  some  account  of  the  gen- 
eral argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity,  consisting  both  of  the 
direct  and  circumstantial  evidence,  considered  as  making  up  one 
argument.  Indeed  to  state  and  examine  tins  arjjument  fully,  would 
be  a  work  much  beyond  the  compass  of  this  whole  treatise;  nor  is 
so  much  as  a  proper  abridgment  of  it  to  be  ex^jccted  here  Yet  the 
present  suhject  requires  to  have  some  brief  account  of  it  given. 
For  it  is  the  kind  of  evidence,  upon  which  most  questions  of  diffi- 
culty in  common  practice  are  determined;  evidence  arising  from 
various  coincidences  which  support  and  confirm  each  other,  and  in 
this  manner  prove,  with  more  or  less  certainty,  the  point  under  con- 
sideration. And  1  choose  to  do  it  also:  First,  because  it  seems  to 
be  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  not  duly  attended  to  by  every 
one,  that  the  proof  of  revelation  is,  not  some  direct  and  express 
things  only,  but  a  great  variety  of  circumstantial  things  also;  and 
that  though  each  of  these  direct  and  circumstantial  things  is  indeed 
to  be  considered  separately,  yet  they  are  afterwards  to  be  joined 
together;  for  that  the  proper  force  of  the  evidence  consists  in  the 
result  of  those  several  things,  considered  in  their  respects  to  each 
other,  and  united  into  one  vievv.  And  in  the  next  place,  because  it 
seems  to  me,  that  the  matters  of  fact  here  set  down,  which  are 
acknowledged  by  unbelievers,  must  be  acknowledged  by  them  also 
to  contain  together  a  degree  of  evidence  of  great  weight,  if  they 
could  be  brought  to  lay  these  several  things  before  themselves  dis- 
tinctly, and  then  with  attention  consider  them  together,  instead  of 
'hat  cursory  thought  of  them    to  which   we  are  familiarized.     For 

'ng  familiarized  to  the  cursory  thought  of  things,  as  realljr  hinders 


Chap-  VII.  fur  Christianity.  185 

the  weight  of  them  from  heingseen,  as  from  having  its  due  influence 
upon  practice. 

The  tiling  asserted,  and  the  truth  of  which  is  to  be  inquired  into, 
is  this,  thiit  over  and  above  our  reason  and  affections,  which  God  has 
given  us  for  the  information  of  our  judgment  and  the  conduct  of  our 
lives,  he  has  also,  by  external  revelation,  given  us  an  account  of  him- 
self and  his  moral  government  over  the  world,  implying  a  future 
state  of  rewards  and  punishments;  i.  e.  hath  revealed  the  system  of 
natural  religion;  for  natural  religion  may  be  externally*  revealed  by 
God,  as  the  ignorant  may  be  taught  it  by  mankind  their  fellow  crea- 
tures— that  God,  I  say,  has  given  us  the  evidence  of  revelation,  as 
well  as  the  evidence  of  reason,  to  ascertain  this  moral  system;  to- 
gether with  an  account  of  a  particular  dispensation  of  Providence, 
which  reason  could  no  way  have  discovered,  and  a  particular  insti- 
tution ol  religion  founded  on  it,  for  the  recovery  of  mankind  out  of 
their  present  wretched  condition,  and  raising  them  to  the  perfection 
and  final  happiness  of  their  nature. 

This  revelation,  whether  real  or  supposed,  may  be  considered  as 
wholly  historical.     For  prophecy  is  nothing  but  the  history  of  events 
before  they  come  to  pass;  doctrines  also  are  matters  of  fact;  and 
precepts   come  under  the  same  notion.     And  the  general  design  of 
•Scripture,  which  contains  in  it  this  revelation,  thus  considered  as 
historical,  may  be  said  to  be  to  give  us  an  account  of  the  world,  in 
this  one  single  view,  as  God's  world;  by  which  it  appears  essentially 
distinguished   from  all  other  books,  so  far  as  I  have  found,  except 
such  as  are  copied  from  it.     It  begins  with  an  account  of  God's  cre- 
ation of  the  world,  in  order  to  ascertain  and  distinguish  from  all 
others  who  is  the  object  of  our  worship,  by   what  he  has  done;  in 
order  to  ascertain   who   he  is,  concerning  whose  providence,   com- 
mands, promises  and  threatenings,  this  sacred  book  all  along  treats; 
the  Maker  and  Proprietor  of  the  world,  he  whose  creatures  we  are, 
the  God  of  nature;  in  order  likewise  to  distinguish  him   from  the 
idols  of  the  nations,  which   are  either  imaginary  beings,  i.  e.  no 
beings  at  all,  or  else  part  of  that  creation,  the  historical  relatioji  of 
which  is  here  given.     And  St.  John,  not  improbably  with  an  eye  to 
this  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  begins  his  gospel  with  an  ac- 
count of  our  Saviour's  preexistence,  and  that  all  thirigs  were  made 
hy  him,  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing  made  that  was  made;-f 
agreeably  to  the  doctrine  of  St.  Pa^d,  that  God  created  all  things  by 
Jesus  Christy    This  beng  premised,  the  Scripture,  taken  together, 
seems  to  profess  to  contain  a  kind  of  an  abridgment  of  the  history  of 
the  world,  in  the  view  just  now  mentioned;  that  is,  a  general  account 
of  the  condition  of  religion  and  its  professors,  during  the  continuance 
of  that  apostacy  from  God,  and  state  of  wickedness,  which  it  every 
where  supposes  the  world  to  lie  in.     And   this  account  of  the  state 
of  religion  carries  with  it  some  brief  account  of  the  political  state 
of  things,  as  religion  is  affected  by  it.     Revelation  indeed  considers 
the  common   affairs  of  this  world,  and  what  is  going  on  in  it,  as  a 
mere  scene  of  distraction,  and  cannot  be  supposed  to  concern  itself 
with  foretelling  at  what  time  Rovie  or  P.ihylon  or  Greece,  or  any 

*  Page  1 21,  &o.        t  Jehn  i.  3.        i  Eph.  iii.  9. 

z 


186  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  If. 

particular  place,  should  be  the  most  conspicuous  seat  of  that  tyranny 
and  dissoluteness,  which  all  places  equally  aspire  to  be;  cannot,  I 
say,  be  supposed  to  give  any  account  of  this  wild  scene  for  its  own 
sake.  But  it  seems  to  contain  some  very  general  account  of  the 
chief  governments  of  the  world,  as  the  general  state  of  religion  has 
been,  is,  or  shall  be,  affected  by  them,  from  the  fust  transgression, 
and  during  the  whole  interval  of  the  world's  continuing  in  its  pres- 
ent state,  to  a  certain  future  period,  spoken  of  both  in  the  Old  and 
New  Testament,  very  distinctly  and  in  great  variety  of  expression; 
T/te  times  of  the  restitution  of  all  things:*  when  the  mystery  of 
God  shall  be  finished.,  as  he  hath  declared  to  his  servants  the  proph- 
ets:i  when  the  Ood  of  heaven  shall  set  up  a  kingdom-  which  shall 
never  he  destroyed:  and  the  kingdom  shall  not  be  left  to  other  peo- 
ple,\.  as  it  is  represented  to  be  during  this  apostacy,  but  judgment 
shall  be  given  to  the  saints,§  and  they  shall  reign:\\  and  the  kingdom 
and  dominion,  and  the  greatness  of  the  kingdom  under  the  whole 
heaven,  shall  be  given  to  the  people  of  the  saints  of  the  Most  High  ^] 

Upon  this  general  view  of  the  Scripture,  1  would  remark  how  great 
a  length  of  time  the  whole  relation  takes  up,  near  six  thousand  years 
of  which  are  past;  and  how  great  a  variety  of  things  it  treats  of;  the 
natural  and  moral  system  or  history  of  the  v/orld,  including  the  time 
when  it  was  formed,  all  contained  in  the  very  first  book,  and  evi- 
dently written  in  a  rude  and  unlearned  age;  and  in  subsequent 
books,  the  various  common  and  prophetic  history,  and  the  particular 
dispensation  of  Christianity.  Now  all  this  together  gives  the  lar- 
gest scope  for  criticism;  and  for  confutation  of  what  is  capable  of 
being  confuted,  either  from  reason,  or  from  common  history,  or  from 
any  inconsistence  in  its  several  parts.  And  it  is  a  thing  which  de- 
serves, I  think,  to  be  mentioned,  that  whereas  some  imagine  the  sup- 
posed doubtfulness  of  the  evidence  for  revelation  implies  a  positive 
argument  that  it  is  not  true,  it  appears,  on  the  contrary,  to  imply  a 
positive  argument  that  it  is  true.  For.  could  any  common  relation, 
of  such  antiquity,  extent  and  variety  (for  in  these  things  the  stress 
of  what  I  am  now  observing  lies)  be  proposed  to  the  examination  of 
the  world;  that  it  could  not,  in  an  age  of  knowledge  and  liberty,  be 
confuted,  or  shewn  to  have  nothing  in  it,  to  the  satisfaction  of  rea- 
sonable men,  this  would  be  thought  a  strong  presumptive  proof  of 
its  truth.  And  indeed  it  must  be  a  proof  of  it,  just  in  proportion  to 
the  probability,  that  if  it  were  false,  it  might  be  shewn  to  be  so;  and 
this.  I  think,  is  scarce  pretended  to  be  shewn  but  upon  principles 
and  in  ways  of  arguing,  which  have  been  clearly  obviated.**  Nor 
does  it  at  all  appear,  that  any  set  of  men  who  believe  natural  reli- 
gion, are  of  the  opinion  that  Christianity  has  been  thus  confuted. 
But  t©  proceed: 

Together  witlj  the  moral  system  of  the  world,  the  Old  Testament 
contains  a  chronological  account  of  the  beginning  of  it,  and  from 
thence  an  unbroken  genealogy  of  mankind  for  many  ages  before 
common  history  begins;  and  carried  on  as  much  farther,  as  to  make 
up  a  continued  thread  of  history  of  the  length  of  between  three  and 

♦  Acts  iii.  21.         I  Rev.  x  7.        \  Dan.  ii  44.        §  Dan.  vii.  2J, 
11  Rev.  xxii=  5.         f  Dap.  Tti.  27,  •*  Chap.  ii.  iii.  8co. 


I 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity.  187 

four  thousand  years.    It  contains  an  account  of  God's  making;  a  cov- 
enant with  a  particular  nation,  that  they  should  be  his  people,  and 
he  would  be  their  God,  in  a  peculiar  sense;  of  his  often  interposing 
miraculously  in  their  affairs;  giving  them  the  promise,  and  long  after 
the  possession,  of  a  particular  country;  assuring  them  of  the  great- 
est national  prosperity  in  it,  if  they  would  worship  him,  in  opposition 
to  the  idols  which  the  rest  of  tiie  world  worshipped,  and  obey  his 
commands,  and  thieatening  them  with  unexampled  punishments,  if 
they  disobeyed  him,  and  fell  into  the  general  idolatry;  insomuch  that 
this  one  nation  should  continue  to  be  the  observation  and  wonder  of 
all    the  world.     It  declares  particularly,  that    God  would  scatter 
them  among  all  people,  from  one  end  of  the  earth  unto  the  other;  but 
that  ichen  they  should  return  unto  the  Lord  their  God,  he  ivould  have 
compassion  upon  them,  and  "gather  them  from  all  the  nations  whither 
he  had  scattered  them;  that  Israel  should  he  saved  in  the  Lord  with 
an  everlasting  salvation,  and  not  be  ashamed  or  confounded  xvorld 
ivithout  end.     And  as  some  of  these  promises  are  conditional,  others 
areas  absolute  as  any  thing  can  be  expressed;  that  tiie  time  should 
come  when  the  people  should  be  all  righteous,  and  inherit  the  land 
forever;  tha*"  though   God  would  make  a  full  end  of  all  nations 
whither  he  had  scattered  them,  yet  would  he  not  make  a  full  end  of 
them;  that  he  would  bring  again  the  captivity  of  his  people  Israel, 
and  plant  them  upon  their  land,  and  they  should  be  no  more  pulled  up 
out  of  their  land;  that  the  seed  of  Israel  should  not  cease  from  being 
a  nation  for  ever.*     It  foretells,  that  God  would  raise  them  up  a  par- 
ticular person,  in  whom  all  his  promises  should  finally  be  fulfilled;  the 
Messiah,  who  should  be  in  an  high  and  eminent  sense,  their  anointed 
Prince  and  Saviour.     This  was  foretold  in  such  a  manner,  as  raised 
a  general   expectation  of  such  a  person  in   the  nation,  as  appears 
from  the  New  Testament,  and  is  an   acknowledged  fact;  an  expec- 
tation  of  his  coming  at  such  a  particular  time,  before  any  one  appear- 
ed claiming  to  be  that  person,  and   when  there  was  no  ground  for 
such  an   expectation,  but  from  the  prophecies;  which  expectation 
therefore  must  in  all  reason  be  presumed  to  be  explanatory  i>f  those 
prophecies,  if  there  were  any  doubt  about  their  meaning.     It  seems 
moreover  to  foretell,  that  this  person  should  be  rejected  by  that  na- 
tion, to  whom  he  had  been  so  long  promised,  and  though  he  was  so 
much  desired  by  them.f     And  it  expressly  foretells,  that  he  should 
be  the  Saviour  of  the  Gentiles;  and  even  that  the  completion  of  the 
scheme,  contained  in  this  book,  and  tJien  begun,  and  in  its  progress, 
should  be  somewhat  so  great,  that,  in  comparison  with  it,  the  resto- 
ration  of  the  Jews  alone  would  be  but  of  small  account.     It  is  a 
light  thing  that  thou  shouldestbe  my  servant  to  raise  up  the  tribes  of 
Jacob,  and  to  restore  the  preserved  of  Israel:  I  will  also  give  thee 
for  a  light  to  the  Gentiles,  that  thou  mayest  be  for  salvation  unto  the 
end  of  the  earth.     And,  In  the  last  days,  the  mountain  of  the  Lord^s 
house  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and  shall  be 
exalted  above  the  hills;  and  all  nations  shall  flow  unto  it for  out 

*  Deut.  xxvlil  ei.    Chap,  xxx  2;  3.       Isai.  xly.  17.    Chap.  Ix.  21.      Jer.  xxx.  11 
Chap,  xlvi  28      Amos  ix.  15     Jer  xxxi  36. 
j  Isai  viii.  14,  15.  Chap,  xlix  5.  Chap.  liii.    Mai.  I.  10,  11,  atifl  Chap  iii. 


188  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  II. 

of  Zion  shall  go  forth  the  law,  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  from  Jeru- 
salem.    And  he  shall  judge  among  the  nations and  the  Lord  alone 

shall  be  exalted  in  that  day,  and  the  idols  he  shall  utterly  abolish* 
The  Scripture  farther  contains  an  account,  that  at  the  time  the  Mes- 
siah was  expected,  a  person  rose  up,  in  this  nation,  claiming  to  be 
that  Messiah,  to  be  the  person  whom  all  the  prophecies  referred  to, 
and  in  whom  they  should  center;  that  he  spent  some  years  in  a  con- 
tinued course  of  miraculous  works,  and  endued  his  immediate  disci- 
ples and  followers  with  a  power  of  doing  the  same,  as  a  proof  of  the 
truth  of  that  religion  which  he  commissioned  them  to  publish;  that, 
invested  with  this  authority  and  power,  they  made  numerous  converts 
in  the  remotest  countries,  and  settled  and  established  his  religion  iu 
the  world,  to  the  end  of  which  the  Scripture  professes  to  give  a  pro- 
phetic account  of  the  state  of  this  religion  amongst  mankind. 

Let  us  now  suppose  a  person  utterly  ignorant  of  history,  to  have 
all  this  related  to  him  out  of  the  Scripture.  Or  suppose  such  an 
one,  having  the  Scripture  put  into  his  hands,  to  remark  these  things 
in  it,  not  knowing  but  that  the  whole,  even  its  civil  history,  as  well 
as  the  other  parts  of  it,  might  be  from  beginning  to  end  an  entire 
invention,  and  to  ask,  what  truth  was  in  it,  and  whether  the  reve- 
lation here  related  was  real  or  a  fiction?  And  instead  of  a  direct 
answer,  suppose  him,  all  at  once,  to  be  told  the  following  confest 
facts,  and  then  to  unite  them  into  one  view. 

Let  him  first  be  told  in  how  great  a  degree  the  profession  and  es- 
tablishment of  natural  religion,  the  belief  that  there  is  one  God  to 
be  worshipped,  that  virtue  is  his  law,  and  that  mankind  shall  be  re- 
warded and  punished  hereafter,  as  they  obey  and  disobey  it  here;  in 
how  very  great  a  degree,  I  say,  the  profession  and  establishment  of 
this  moral  system  in  the  world  is  owing  to  the  revelation,  whether 
real  or  supposed,  contained  in  this  book;  the  establishment  of  tliis 
moral  system,  even  in  those  countries  which  do  not  acknowledge 
the  proper  authority  of  the  Scripture. t  l^et  him  be  told  also  what 
number  of  nations  do  acknowledge  its  proper  authority.  Let  him 
then  take  in  the  consideration  of  what  importance  religion  is  to  man- 
kind. And  upon  these  things  he  mights  1  think,  truly  observe,  that 
this  supposed  revelation's  obtaininir  and  being  received  in  the  world, 
with  all  the  circumstances  and  effects  of  it,  considered  together  as 
one  event,  is  the  most  conspicuous  and  important  event  in  the  story 
of  mankind;  that  a  book  of  this  nature,  and  thus  promulged  and 
recommended  to  our  consideration,  demands,  as  if  by  a  voice  from 
heaven,  to  have  its  claims  n;ost  seriously  examined  into;  and  that, 
before  such  eiamination,  to  treat  it  with  any  kind  of  scoffing  and 
ridicule,  is  an  oSence  against  natural  piety.  But  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, that  how  much  soever  the  establishment  of  natural  religion  in 
the  world  is  owing  to  the  scripture  revelation,  that  this  dues  not  de- 
stroy the  proof  of  religion  from  reason,  any  more  thnn  the  proof  of 
Euclid's  Elements  if?  destroyed  by  a  man's  knowing  or  thinking  that 

*Isai.  xlix  C.  Chap  ii-  Chap  xi.  Chap.  hi.  7.  M;il.  i  11.  To  which  must  be  ad- 
tied  the  otiier  prophecies  of  the  like  kipcl,  several  in  the  New  Testament,  and  very 
many  in  the  Giil:  .vhlch  (ks-ir'be  what  shall  he  the  eofnrjl'^f.ion  «r  the  reY^;:xled  plan  of 
ProvWquce,  t  Fau'^^;  1 0-2.  .^ 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity.  189 

he  should  never  have  seen  the  truth  of  the  several  propositions  con-, 
tained  in  it,  nor  had  those  propositions  come  into  his  thoughts,  but 
for  that  mathematician. 

Let  such  a  person  as  we  are  speaking  of  be,  in  the  next  place,  in- 
formed of  the  acknowledged  antiquity  of  the  first  parts  of  this  book, 
and  that  its  chronology,  its  account  of  the  time  when  the  earth  and 
the  several  parts  of  it  were  first  peopled  with  human  creatures  is  no 
way  contradicted,  but  is  really  confirmed,  by  the  natural  and  civil 
history  of  the  world,  collected  from  common  historians,  from  the 
state  of  the  earth,  and  from  the  late  invention  of  arts  and  sciences. 
And  as  the  Scripture  contains  an  unbroken  thread  of  common  and 
civil  history,  from  the  creation  to  the  captivity,  for  between  three 
and  four  thousand  years,  let  the  person  we  are  speaking  of  be  told 
in  the  next  place  that  this  general  history,  as  it  is  not  contradicted 
but  is  confirmed  by  profane  history  as  much  as  there  would  be  reason 
to  expect,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth—so  there  is  nothing  in  the 
whole  history  itself,  to  give  any  reasonable  ground  of  suspicion  of 
its  not  being,  in  the  general,  a  faithful  and  literally  true  genealogy 
of  men,  and  series  of  things.  I  speak  here  only  of  the  common 
scripture  history,  or  of  the  course  of  ordinary  events  related  in  it, 
as  distinguished  from  miracles  and  from  the  prophetic  history.  In 
all  the  scripture  narrations  of  this  kind,  following  events  arise  out 
of  foregoing  ones,  as  in  all  other  histories.  There  appears  nothing 
related  as  done  in  any  age,  not  conformable  to  the  manners  of  that 
age;  nothing  in  the  account  of  a  succeeding  age  which,  one  would 
say,  could  not  be  true,  or  was  improbable,  from  the  account  of  things 
in  the  preceding  one.  There  is  nothing  in  the  characters  which 
would  raise  a  thought  of  their  being  feigned;  but  all  the  internal 
marks  imaginable  of  their  being  real.  It  is  to  be  added  also,  that 
mere  genealogies,  bare  narratives  of  the  number  of  years  which  per- 
sons called  by  such  and  such  names  lived,  do  not  carry  the  face  of 
fiction,  perhaps  do  carry  some  presumption  of  veracity:  and  all  una- 
dorned narratives,  which  have  nothing  to  surprixe,  may  be  thought 
to  carry  somewhat  of  the  like  presumption  too.  And  the  domestic 
and  the  political  history  is  plainly  credible.  There  may  be  incidents 
in  Scripture,  which  taken  alone  in  the  naked  way  they  are  told,  mav 
appear  strange,  especially  to  persons  of  other  manners,  temper,  edt.;- 
cation;  but  there  are  also  incidents  of  undoubted  truth,  in  many  or 
most  persons'  lives,  which,  in  the  same  circumstances,  would  appear 
to  be  full  as  strange.  There  may  be  mistakes  of  trat)scribers,  there 
may  be  other  real  or  seeming  mistakes  not  easy  to  be  particularly 
accounted  for;  but  there  are  certainly  no  more  things  of  this  kind 
in  the  Scripture,  than  what  were  to  have  been  expected  in  books  of 
such  antiquity,  and  nothing  in  any  wise  sufficient  to  discredit  the 
general  narrative.  Now,  that  a  history  claiming  to  commence  from 
the  creation,  and  extending  in  one  continued  series  through  so  great 
a  length  of  time  and  variety  of  events,  should  have  such  appearan- 
ces of  reality  and  truth  in  its  whole  contexture,  is  surely  a  very 
remarkable  circumstance  in  its  favor.  And  as  all  this  is  applicable 
to  the  common  history  of  the  New  Testament,  so  there  is  a  farther 
credibility,  and  a  very  high  one,  given  to  it  by  profane  authors; 
many  of  these  writing  of  the  same  times,  and  confirming  the  truth 


l90  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  II 

of  customs  and  events  which  are  incidentally  as  well  as  more  pur* 
posely  mentioned  in  it.  And  this  credibility  of  the  common  scrip- 
ture history,  gives  some  credibility  to  its  miraculous  history;  espe- 
cially as  this  is  interwoven  with  the  common,  so  as  that  they  imply 
each  other,  and  both  together  make  up  one  relation. 

Let  it  then  be  more  particularly  observed  to  this  person,  that  it  is 
an  acknowledged  matter  of  fact,  which  is  indeed  implied  in  the  fore- 
going observation,  that  there  was  such  a  nation  as  the  Jews,  of  the 
greatest  antiquity,  whose  government  and  general  polity  was  foun- 
ded on  the  law  here  related  to  be  given  them  by  Moses  as  from  heaven; 
that  natural  religion,  though  with  rites  additional,  yet  no  way  con» 
trary  to  it,  was  their  established  religion,  which  cannot  be  said  of 
the  Gentile  world;  and  that  their  very  being  as  a  nation  depended 
tipon  their  acknowledgement  of  one  God,  the  God  of  the  universe. 
For,  suppose  in  their  captivity  in  Babyion,  they  had  gone  over  to  the 
religion  of  their  conquerors,  there  would  have  remained  no  bond  of 
union  to  keep  them  a  distinct  people.  And  whilst  they  were  under 
their  own  kings,  in  their  own  country,  a  total  apostacy  from  God 
would  have  been  the  dissolution  of  their  whole  government.  They, 
in  such  a  sense,  nationally  acknowledged  and  worshipped  the  Maker 
of  heaven  and  earth,  when  the  rest  of  the  world  were  sunk  in  idola- 
try, as  rendered  them,  in  fact,  the  peculiar  people  of  God.  And 
this  so  remarkable  an  establishment  and  preservation  of  natural  reli- 
gion amongst  them,  seems  to  add  some  peculiar  credibility  to  the  his- 
torical evidence  for  the  miracles  of  Moses  and  the  prophets:  because 
these  miracles  are  a  full  satisfactory  account  of  this  event,  which 
plainly  wants  to  be  accounted  for,  and  cannot  otherwise. 

Let  this  person,  supposed  wholly  ignorant  of  history,  be  acquaint- 
ed farther,  that  one  claiming  to  be  the  Messiah,  of  Jewish  extrac 
tion,  rose  up  at  the  time  when  this  nation,  from  the  prophecies  above 
mentioned,  expected  the  Messiah;  that  he  was  rejected,  as  it  seemed 
to  have  been  foretold  he  should,  by  the  body  of  the  people,  under  the 
direction  of  their  rulers;  that  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years  he 
was  believed  on  and  acknowledged  as  the  promised  Messiah,  by 
great  numbers  among  the  Gentiles,  agreeably  to  the  prophecies  of 
Scripture,  yet  not  upon  the  evidence  of  prophecy,  but  of  mirao'les,* 
of  which  miracles  wc  have  also  strong  historical  evidence;  (by  which 
I  mean  here  no  more  than  must  be  acknowledged  by  unbelievers,  for 
let  pious  frauds  and  follies  be  admitted  to  weaken,  it  is  absurd  to 
say  they  destroy,  our  evidence  of  miracles  wrought  in  proof  of 
Christianity*)  that  this  religion,  approving  itself  to  the  reason  of 
mankind,  and  carrying  its  own  evidence  with  it,  so  far  as  reason  is 
a  judge  of  its  system,  and  being  no  way  contrary  to  reason  in  those 
parts  of  it  which  require  to  be  believed  upon  the  mere  authority  of 
its  Author — that  this  religion,  I  say,  gradually  spread  and  supported 
itself,  for  some  hundred  years,  not  only  without  any  assistance  from 
temporal  power,  but  under  constant  discouragements,  and  often  the 
bitterest  persecutions  from  it,  and  then  became  the  religion  of  the 
world;  that  in  the  mean  time  the  Jewish  nation  and  government 
«>vere  destroyed,  in  a  very  remarkable  manner,  and  the  people  carried 

•  F.tg-;  175,  Sic         -  Page  1  79,  fee. 


Chap.  VII.  for  Christianity,  191 

away  captive  and  dispersed  through  the  most  distant  countries,  in 
which  state  of  dispersion  they  have  remained  fifteen  hundred  yearsj 
and  that  they  remain  a  numerous  people,  united  amongst  themselves, 
and  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  as  they  were  in  the 
days  of  Moses,  by  the  profession  of  his  law,  and  every  where  looked 
upon  in  a  manner  which  one  scarce  knows  how  distinctly  to  express, 
but  in  the  words  of  the  prophetic  account  of  it,  given  so  many  ages 
before  it  came  to  pass — Thou  shalt  become  an  astonishment,  a 
proverb,  and  a  byword,  among  all  nations  whither  the  Lord  shall  lead 
thee.* 

The  appearance  of  a  standing  miracle,  in  the  Jews  remaining  a 
distinct  people  in  their  dispersion,  and  the  confirmation  which  this 
event  appears  to  give  to  the  truth  of  revelation,  may  be  thought  to 
be  answered  by  their  religion's  forbidding  them  intermarriages  with 
those  of  any  other,  and  prescribing  them  a  great  many  peculiarities 
in  their  food,  by  which  they  are  debarred  from  the  means  of  incor- 
porating with  the  people  in  whose  countries  they  live.  This  is  n»t, 
I  think,  a  satisfactory  account  of  that  which  it  pretends  to  account 
for.  But  what  does  it  pretend  to  account  for.^  The  correspondence 
between  this  event  and  the  prophecies;  or  the  coincidence  of  both,, 
with  a  long  dispensation  of  Providence  of  a  peculiar  nature,  towards 
that  people  formerly.''  No.  It  is  only  the  event  itself  which  is  otFered 
to  be  thus  accounted  for,  which  single  event  taken  alone,  abstracted 
from  all  such  correspondence  and  coincidence,  perhaps  would  not 
have  appeared  miraculous;  but  that  correspondence  and  coincidence 
may  be  so,  though  the  event  itself  be  supposed  not.  Thus  the  con- 
currence of  our  Saviour's  being  born  at  Bethlehem,  with  a  long  fore- 
going series  of  prophecy  and  other  coincidences,  is  doubtless  mirac- 
ulous, the  series  of  prophecy,  and  other  coincidences,  and  the  event 
being  admitted;  though  the  event  itself,  his  birth  at  that  place,  ap- 
pears to  have  been  brought  about  in  a  natural  way;  of  which,  how- 
ever, no  one  can  be  certain. 

And  as  several  of  these  events  seem  in  some  degree  expressly  to 
have  verified  the  prophetic  history  already,  so  likewise  they  may  be 
V  onsidered  farther  as  having  a  peculiar  aspect  towards  the  full  com- 
pletion of  it,  as  affording  some  presumption  that  the  whole  of  it  shall, 
one  time  or  other,  be  fulfilled.  Thus,  that  the  Jews  have  been  so 
wonderfully  preserved  in  their  long  and  wide  dispersion,  which  is 
indeed  the  direct  fulfilling  of  some  prophecies,  but  is  now  mentioned 
only  as  looking  forward  to  somewhat  yet  to  come;  that  natural  reli- 
gion came  forth  from  Judea,  and  spread  in  the  degree  it  has  done 
over  the  world,  before  lost  in  idolatry,  which  together  with  some 
other  things  have  distinguished  that  very  place,  in  like  manner  as 
the  people  of  it  are  distinguished;  that  this  great  change  of  religion 
over  the  earth,  was  brought  about  under  the  profession  and  acknowl- 
edgment that  Jesus  was  the  promised  Messiah;  things  of  this  kind 
naturally  turn  the  thoughts  of  serious  men  towards  the  full  comple- 
tion of  the  prophetic  history,  concerning  the  final  restoration  of  that 
people,  concerning  the  establishment  of  the  everlasting  kingdom 
among  them,  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  and  the  future  state  of  the 

•  Deut  jcxviii,  37. 


l92  Of  the  particular  Evidence  Part  II. 

world  under  this  sacred  government.  Such  circumstances  and  events 
compared  with  these  prophecies,  though  no  completions  of  them,  yet 
would  not,  I  think,  be  spoken  of  as  nothing  in  the  argument,  by  a 
person  upon  his  first  being  informed  of  them.  They  fall  in  with  the 
prophetic  history  of  things  still  further,  give  it  some  additional  cred- 
ibility, have  the  appearance  of  being  somewhat  in  order  to  the  full 
completion  of  it. 

Indeed  it  requires  a  good  degree  of  knowledge,  and  great  calmness 
and  consideration,  to  be  able  to  judge  thoroughly  of  the  evidence  for 
the  truth  of  Christianity,  from  that  part  of  the  prophetic  history 
which  relates  to  the  situation  of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  to 
the  state  of  the  church,  from  the  establishment  of  Christianity  to  the 
present  time.  But  it  appears,  from  a  general  view  of  it,  to  be  very 
material.  And  those  persons  who  have  thoroughly  examined  it,  and 
some  of  them  were  men  of  the  coolest  tempers,  greatest  capacities, 
and  least  liable  to  imputations  of  prejudice,  insist  upon  it  as  deter- 
minately  conclusive. 

Suppose  now  a  person  quite  ignorant  of  history,  fust  to  recollect 
the  passages  abovementioned  out  of  Scripture,  without  knowing  but 
that  the  whole  was  a  late  fiction,  then  to  be  informed  of  ti:e  corres- 
pondent facts  now  mentioned,  and  to  unite  thenii  all  into  one  view; 
that  the  profession  and  establishment  of  natural  religion  in  the  world 
is  greatly  owing,  in  different  ways,  to  this  book,  and  the  supposed 
revelation  which  it  contains:  that  it  is  acknowledged  to  be  of  the 
earliest  antiquity;  that  its  chronology  and  common  Iiistory  are  en- 
tirely credible;  that  this  ancient  nation,  the  Jeivs^  of  whom  it  chiefly 
treats,  appear  to  have  been  in  fact  the  people  of  God  in  a  distin- 
guished sense;  that,  as  there  was  a  national  expectation  amongst 
them,  raised  from  the  prophecies,  of  a  Messiah  to  appear  at  such  a 
time,  so  one  at  this  time  appeared  claiming  to  be  that  Messiah;  that 
he  was  rejected  by  this  nation,  but  received  by  the  Gentiles,  not 
upon  the  evidence  of  prophecy,  but  of  miracles;  that  the  religion  he 
taught  supported  itself  under  the  greatest  difficulties,  gained  ground, 
and  at  length  became  the  religion  of  the  world;  that  in  the  mean 
time  the  Jewish  polity  was  utterly  destroyed,  and  the  nation  dis- 
persed over  the  face  of  the  earth;  that  notwithstanding  this,  they 
have'  remained  a  distinct  numerous  people  for  so  many  centuries, 
even  to  this  day,  which  not  only  appears  to  be  the  express  comple- 
tion of  several  prophecies  concerning  them,  but  also  renders  it.  as 
one  may  speak,  a  visible  and  easy  possibility  that  the  promises  made 
to  them  as  a  nation  may  yet  be  fulfilled;  and  to  these  acknowledged 
truths,  let  the  person  we  have  been  supposing  add,  as  I  think  he 
ought,  whether  every  one  will  allow  it  or  not,  the  obvious  appear- 
ances which  there  are,  of  the  state  of  the  world,  in  other  respects 
besides  what  relates  to  the  Jews,  and  of  the  Christian  Church,  hav- 
ing so  long  answered  and  still  answering  to  the  prophetic  history;— 
suppose,  I  say,  these  facts  set  over  against  the  things  before  men- 
tioned out  of  the  Scripture,  and  seriously  compare<l  with  them— 
the  joint  view  of  both  together  must,  I  think,  appear  of  very  great 
weight  to  a  considerate  reasonable  person;  of  much  greater  indeed, 
upon  having  them  first  laid  before  him.  than  is  easy  tor  us  who  are 
so  familiarized  to  them  to  conceive,  without  some  particular  atten- 
tion for  tiiat  purpose. 


"hap.  VIL  for  CltristianUi/.  19S 

All  these  thinj^s,  and  the  several  particulars  contained  under  them, 
require  to  be  distinctly  and  most  thorouj>hly  examined  into,  that  the 
weight  of  each  may  be  judged  of  upon  such  examination,  and  such 
conclusion  drawn  as  results  from  their  united  force.     But  this  has 
not  been  attempted  here.     I  have  gone  no  farther  than  to  show,  that 
the  general  imperfect  view  of  them  now  given,  the  confest  historical 
evidence  for  miracles,  and  the  many  obvious  appearing  completions 
of  prophec}',  together  with  the  collateral  things*  here   mentioned, 
and  there  are  several  others  of  the  like  sort;  that  all  this  together, 
which  being  fact  must  be  acknowledged  by  unbelievers,  amounts  to 
real  evidence  of  somewhat  more  than  human  in  this  matter;  evidence 
much  mote  important  than  careless  men,  who  have  been  accustomed 
only  to  transient  and  partial  views  of  it,  can  imagine,  and  indeed 
abundantly  sufficient  to  act  upon.     And  these  things,  I  apprehend, 
must  be  acknowledged  by  unbelievers.     For  though  they  may  say, 
that  the  historical  evidence  of  miracles,  wrought  in   attestation  of 
Christianity;  is  not  sufficient  to  convince  them  that  such  miracles 
ivere  really  wrought,  they  cannot  deny  that  there  is  such  historical 
evidence,  it  being  a  known  matter  of  fact  that  there  is.     They  ma^ 
say.  the  conformity  between  the  prophecies  and  events  is  by  acci- 
dent: but  there  are  many  instances  in  which  such  conformity  itself 
cannot  be  denied.     They  may  say,  with  regard  to  such  kind  of  col- 
lateral things  as  those  above-mentioned,  that  any  odd   accidental 
events,  without  meaning,  will  have  a  meaning  found  in  them  by  fan- 
ciful people;  and  that  such  as  are  fanciful  in  any  one  certain  way, 
\vill  make  out  a  thousand  coincidences  which  seem  to   favor  their 
peculiar  follies.     Men,  I  say,  may  talk  thus;  but  no  one  who  is  seri- 
ous can  possibly  tiiink  these  things  to  be  nothing,  if  he  considers  the. 
importance  of  collateral  things,  and  even  of  lesser  circumstances,  in 
the  evidence  of  probability,  as  distinguished  in  nature  from  the  evi- 
dence of  demonstration.     In  many  cases  indeed  it  seems  to  require 
the  truest  judgment,  to  determine  with  exactness  the  weight  of  cir- 
cumstantial evidence;  but  it  is  very  often  altogether  as  convincing, 
as  that  which  is  the  most  express  and  direct. 

This  general  view  of  the  evidence  for  Christianity,  considered  as 
making  one  argument,  may  also  serve  to  recommend  to  serious  per- 
sons, to  set  dovv'n  every  thing  which  they  think  may  be  of  any  real 
weight  at  all  in  proof  of  it,  and  particularly  the  many  seeming  com- 
pletions of  prophecy;  and  ttiey  will  find  that,  judging  by  the  natural 
rules  by  which  we  judge  of  probable  evidence  in  common  matters, 
tliey  amount  to  a  much  higher  degree  of  proof,  upon  such  a  joint  re- 
view, than  could  be  supposed  upon  considering  them  separately  at 
different  times,  how  strong  soever  the  proof  might  before  appear  to 
them  upon  such  separate  views  of  it.  For  probable  proofs,  by  being 
added,  not  only  increase  the  evidence,  but  multiply  it.  Nor  should 
I  dissuade  any  one  from  setting  down  what  he  thought  made  for  the 
contrary  side.  But  then  it  is  to  be  remembered,  not  in  order  to  in- 
fluence his  judgment,  but  his  practice,  that  a  mistake  on  one  side 
may  be,  in  its  consequences,  much  more  dangerous  than  a  mistake 

•  AH  the  particular  things  mentioned  in  this  chapter,  not  reducible  to  the  h%&d  of 
certain  miracles,  or  determinate  cornTiletions  of  TirophecT,    See  p.  17^  iTi^ 
A  f2 


l94  0/ the  particular  Evidence.  S[c.  Part  II, 

on  the  other.  And  what  course  is  most  safe,  and  what  most  danger- 
ous, is  a  consideration  thought  very  material,  when  we  deliberate,  pot 
concerning  events,  but  concerning  conduct  in  our  temporal  affairs. 
To  be  influenced  by  this  consideration  in  our  judgment,  to  believe  or 
disbelieve  upon  it,  is  indeed  as  much  prejudice  as  any  thing  whatever. 
And,  like  other  prejudices,  it  operates  contrary  ways,  in  different 
men.  For  some  are  inclined  to  believe  what  they  hope,  and  others 
what  they  fear.  And  it  is  manifest  unreasonableness,  to  apply  to 
men's  passions  in  order  to  gain  their  assent.  But  in  deliberations 
concerning  conduct;  there  is  nothing  which  reason  more  re- 
quires to  be  taken  into  the  account,  than  the  importance  of  it. 
For,  suppose  it  doubtful  what  would  be  the  consequence  of  acting  in 
this,  or  in  a  contrary  manner,  still  that  taking  one  side  could  be 
attended  with  little  or  no  bad  consequence,  and  taking  the  other 
might  be  attended  with  the  greatest,  must  appear  to  unprejudiced 
reason  of  the  highest  moment  towards  determining  how  we  are  to 
act.  But  the  truth  of  our  religion,  like  the  truth  of  common  mat- 
ters, is  to  be  judged  of  by  all  the  evidence  taken  together.  And 
unless  the  whole  series  of  things  which  may  be  alleged  m  this  argu- 
ment, and  every  particular  thing  in  it,  can  reasonably  be  supposed 
to  have  been  by  accident,  (for  here  the  stress  of  the  argument  for 
Christianity  lies)  then  is  the  truth  of  it  proved;  in  like  manner  as  if 
in  any  common  case,  numerous  events  acknowledged,  were  to  be 
alleged  in  proof  of  any  other  event  disputed,  the  truth  of  the  disputed 
event  would  be  proved,  not  only  if  any  one  of  the  acknowledged 
ones  did  of  itself  clearly  imply  it,  but,  though  no  one  of  them  singly 
did  so,  if  the  whole  of  the  acknowledged  events,  taken  together, 
could  not  in  reason  be  supposed  to  have  happened,  unless  the  dis- 
puted one  were  true. 

It  is  obvious  how  much  advantage  the  nature  of  this  evidence  gives 
to  those  persons  who  attack  Christianity,  especially  in  conversation. 
For  it  is  easy  to  shew,  in  a  short  and  lively  manner,  that  such  and 
such  things  are  liable  to  objection,  that  this  and  another  thing  is  of 
little  weight  in  itself:  but  impossible  to  shew,  in  like  manner,  the 
united  force  of  the  whole  argument  in  one  view. 

However,  lastly,  as  it  has  been  made  appear  that  there  is  no  pre- 
sumption against  a  revelation  as  miraculous;  that  the  general  scheme 
of  Christianity,  and  the  principal  parts  of  it,  are  conformable  to  the 
experienced  constitution  of  things,  and  the  whole  perfectly  credible; 
so  the  account  now  given  of  the  positive  evidence  for  it,  shews  that 
this  evidence  is  such,  as  from  the  nature  of  it  cannot  be  destroyed, 
though  it  should  be  lessened. 


i 


Chap.  VIII.      Objections  against  the  Analogy ^  ^c  195 


CHAP.  VIIL 


Of  the  Objections  which  may  be  made  against  arguing  from,  the  An- 
alogy of  JVature  to  Religion* 

IF  every  one  would  consider,  with  such  attention  as  they  are 
bound  even  in  point  of  morality  to  consider,  what  theyjudge  and  give 
characters  of,  the  occasion  of  this  chapter  would  be,  in  some  good 
measure  at  least,  superseded.  But  since  this  is  not  to  be  expected, 
for  some  we  find  do  not  concern  themselves  to  understand  even  what 
they  write  against;  since  this  treatise,  in  common  with  most  others, 
lies  open  to  objections  which  may  appear  very  material  to  thought- 
ful men  at  first  sight;  and,  besides  that,  seems  peculiarly  liable  to 
the  objections  of  such  as  can  judge  without  thinking,  and  of  such  as 
can  censure  without  judging — it  may  hot  be  amiss  to  set  down  the 
chief  of  these  objections  which  occur  to  me,  and  consider  them  to 
their  hands.     And  they  are  such  as  these; 

"  That  it  is  a  poor  thing  to  solve  difficulties  in  revelation,  by  say- 
ing that  there  are  the  same  in  natural  religion,  when  what  is  wanting 
is  to  clear  both  of  them  of  these  their  common,  as  well  as  other  their 
respective,  difficulties;  but  that  it  is  a  strange  way  indeed  of  con- 
vincing men  of  the  obligations  of  religion,  to  shew  them  that  they 
have  as  little  reason  for  their  worldly  pursuits;  and  a  strange  way 
of  vindicating  the  justice  and  goodness  of  the  Author  of  nature,  and 
of  removing  the  objections  against  both,  to  which  the  system  of  reli- 
gion lies  open,  to  shew  that  the  like  objections  lie  against  natural 
providence;  a  way  of  answering  objections  against  religion,  without 
so  much  as  pretending  to  make  out  that  the  system  of  it,  or  the  par- 
ticular things  in  it  objected  against,  are  reasonable;  especially,  per- 
haps some  may  be  inattentive  enough  to  add,  must  this  be  thought 
strange,  when  it  is  confessed  that  analogy  is  no  answer  to  such  objec- 
tions; that  when  this  sort  of  reasoning  is  carried  to  the  utmost  length 
it  can  be  imagined  capable  of,  it  will  yet  leave  the  mind  in  a  very 
unsatisfied  state;  and  that  it  must  be  unaccountable  ignorance  of 
mankind;  to  imagine  they  will  be  prevailed  with  to  forego  their  pres- 
ent interests  and  pleasures,  from  regard  to  religion,  upon  doubtful 
evidence." 

Now,  as  plausible  as  this  way  of  talking  may  appear,  that  appear- 
ance will  be  found  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  half  views,  which 
shew  but  part  of  an  object,  yet  shew  that  indistinctly,  and  to  unde- 
terminate  language.  By  these  means  weak  men  are  often  deceived 
by  others,  and  ludicrous  men  by  themselves.  And  even  those  who 
are  serious  and  considerate  cannot  always  readily  disentangle  a, A 
at  once  clearly  see  through  the  perplexities  in  which  subjects  them- 
selves are  involved,  and  which  are  heightened  bv  the  deficiencies  and 


%96  ^Objections  against  the  Analogy  Part  II. 

the  abuse  oP  words.  To  this  latter  sort  of  persons,  the  following 
reply  to  each  part  of  this  objection  severally  may  be  of  some  assist- 
ance, as  it  may  also  tend  a  little  to  stop  and  silence  others. 

First,  the  thing  wanted,  i.  e.  what  men  require,  is  to  have  all  dif- 
ficulties cleared.  And  this  is,  or  at  least  for  any  thing  we  know  to 
the  contrary  it  may  be,  the  same  as  requiring  to  comprehend  the 
Divine  Nature,  and  the  whole  plan  of  Providence,  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting.  But  it  hath  always  been  allowed  to  argue  from  what 
is  acknowledged  to  what  is  disputed;  and  it  is  in  no  other  sense  a 
poor  thing  to  argue  from  natural  religion  to  revealed,  in  the  manner 
found  fault  with,  than  it  is  to  argue  in  numberless  other  ways  of 
probable  deduction  and  inference,  in  matters  of  conduct,  which  we 
are  continually  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  doing.  Indeed  the  epi- 
thet poor.,  may  be  applied,  I  fear  as  properly,  to  great  part,  or  the 
whole,  of  human  life,  as  it  is  to  the  things  mentioned  in  the  objection. 
Is  it  not  a  poor  thing,  for  a  physician  to  have  so  little  ktiowledge  in 
the  cure  of  diseases  as  even  the  most  eminent  have?  To  act  upon 
conjecture  and  guess,  where  the  life  of  man  is  concerned?  Undoubt- 
edly it  is;  but  not  in  comparison  of  having  no  skill  at  all  in  that 
useful  art,  and  being  obliged  to  act  wholly  in  the  dark. 

Further — since  it  is  as  unreasonable  as  it  is  common,  to  urge  cbjec- 
tions  against  revelation  which  are  of  equal  weight  against  natural 
religion;  and  those  who  do  this,  if  they  are  not  confused  themse^ves, 
deal  unfairly  with  others,  in  making  it  seem  that  they  are  arguing 
only  against  revelation,  or  particular  doctrines  of  it,  when  in  realitj' 
they  are  arguing  against  moral  providence — it  is  a  thing  of  conse-  • 
quence  to  show  that  such  objections  are  as  much  levelled  against  nat- 
ural religion,  as  against  revealed.  And  objections,  which  aie  equally 
applicable  to  both,  are  properly  speaking  answered,  by  its  being 
shown  that  they  are  so,  provided  the  former  he  admitted  to  be  true. 
And  without  taking  in  the  consideration  how  distinctly  this  is  admit- 
ted, it  is  plainly  very  material  to  observe,  that  as  the  things  objected 
against  in  natural  religion,  are  of  the  same  kind  with  what  is  certain 
matter  of  experience  in  the  course  of  Providence,  and  in  the  informa- 
tion which  (io<!  aflbrds  us  concerning  our  temporal  interest  under 
his  government — so  the  objections  against  tlie  system  of  Christianity 
and  the  evidence  of  it,  are  of  the  very  same  kind  with  those  which 
are  made  against  the  system  and  evicience  of  natural  religion.  How- 
ever, the  reader  upon  review  may  see,  that  niost  of  the  analogies 
insisted  upon,  even  in  the  latter  part  of  this  treatise,  do  not  necessa- 
rily require  to  have  more  taken  for  granted  than  is  in  the  former; 
that  there  is  an  Author  of  nature,  or  natural  Governor  of  the  world; 
and  Christianity  is  vindicated,  not  from  its  analogy  to  natural  reli- 
gion, but  chlefiy  frem  its  analogy  to  the  experienced  constitution  of 
nature. 

Secondly,  religion  is  a  practical  thing,  and  consists  in  such  a  de- 
terminate course  of  life,  as  being  what  there  is  reason  to  think  is 
commanded  by  t!ie  Author  of  nature,  and  will  upon  the  whole  be  our 
happiness  under  his  government.  Now  if  men  can  'oe  convinced  that 
they  have  the  like  reason  to  believe  this,  as  to  believe  that  taking- 
care  of  their  temporal  aHairs  will  be  to  their  advantage—such  con- 
viction canned  b'Jt  he  an  srcutnent  to  them  for  the  practice  of  reli- 


Chap.  VII  f.  of  Mature  to  Religion.  W 

gion.  And  if  there  be  really  any  reason  for  believing  one  of  these, 
and  endeavoring  to  preserve  life,  and  secure  ourselves  the  necessa- 
ries and  conveniences  of  it— then  there  is  reason  also  for  believing^ 
the  other,  and  endeavoring  to  secure  the  interest  it  proposes  to  us. 
And  if  the  interest  which  religion  proposes  to  us  be  infinitely  greater 
than  our  whole  temporal  interest,  then  there  must  be  proportionabiy 
greater  reason  for  endeavoring  to  secure  one  than  the  other;  since 
by  the  supposition,  the  probability  of  our  securing  one,  is  equal  tfv 
the  probability  of  our  securing  the  other.  This  seems  plainly  unans- 
werable, and  has  a  tendency  to  influence  fair  minds,  who  consider 
what  our  condition  really  is,  or  upon  what  evidence  we  are  naturally 
appointed  to  act;  and  who  are  disposed  to  acquiesce  in  the  term.s 
upon  which  we  live,  and  attend  to  and  follow  that  practical  instruc- 
tion, whatever  it  be,  which  is  afforded  us. 

But  the  chief  and  proper  force  of  the  argument  referred  to  in  the 
objection  lies  in  another  place.  For,  it  is  said  that  the  proof  of  reli- 
gion is  involved  in  such  inextricable  difficulties  as  to  render  it  doubt- 
ful, and  that  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  if  it  were  true  it  would  be 
left  upon  doubtful  evidence.  Here  then,  over  and  above  the  force  of 
each  particular  difficulty  or  objection,  these  difficulties  and  objec- 
tions, taken  together,  are  turned  into  a  positive  argument  against 
the  truth  of  religion;  which  argument  would  stand  thus.  If  reli- 
gion were  true  it  would  not  be  left  doubtful,  and  open  to  objections 
to  the  degree  in  which  it  is;  therefore  that  it  is  thus  left,  not  only 
renders  the  evidence  of  it  weak,  and  lessens  its  force  in  proportion 
to  th.e  weight  of  such  objections;  but  also  shews  it  to  be  false,  or  is  a 
general  presumption  of  its  being  so.  Now  -the  observation,  that 
from  the  natural  constitution  and  course  of  things,  we  must  in  our 
temporal  concerns,  almost  continually,  and  in  matters  of  great  con- 
sequence, act  upon  evidence  of  a  like  kind  and  degree  to  the  evi- 
dence of  religion,  is  an  answer  to  this  argument;  because  it  shews 
that  it  is  according  to  the  conduct  and  character  of  the  Author  of 
nature  to  appoint  we  should  act  upon  evidence  like  that  to  which  this 
argument  presumes  he  cannot  be  supposed  to  appoint  we  should  act 
upon;  it  is  an  instance,  a  general  one  made  up  of  numerous  partic- 
ular ones,  of  somewhat  in  his  dealing  with  us  similar  to  what  is  said 
to  be  incredible.  And  as  the  force  of  this  answer  lies  merely  in  the 
parallel  which  there  is  between  the  evidence  for  reliijion  and  for  our 
temporal  conduct,  the  answer  is  equally  jtist  and  conclusive,  whether 
the  parallel  be  made  out  by  shewing  the  evidence  of  the  former  to  be 
higher,  or  the  evidence  of  the  latter' to  be  lower. 

Thirdly,  the  design  of  this  treatise  is  not  to  vindicate  the  char- 
acter of  God,  but  to  shew  the  obligations  of  men;  it  is  not  to  justify 
his  providence,  but  to  shew  what  belongs  to  us  to  do.  These  are 
two  subjects,  and  ought  not  to  be  confounded.  And  though  they 
may  at  length  run  up  into  each  other,  yet  observations  may  immedi- 
diately  tend  to  make  out  the  latter,  which  do  not  appear  by  any  im- 
mediate connexion  to  the  purpose  of  the  former;  which  is  less  our 
concern  than  many  seem  to  think.  For,  1st,  it  is  not  necessary  we 
should  justify  the  dispensations  of  Providence  against  objections,  any 
farther  than  to  shew  that  the  things  objected  against  may,  for  aught 
we  know,  be  consistent  with  justice  and  goodness.     Suppose  then, 


198  Objections  against  the  Analogy  Paut  IL 

that  there  are  things  in  the  system  of  this  world,  and  plan  of  Provi- 
dence relating  to  it,  which  taken  alone  would  be  unjust — yet  it  has 
been  shewn  unanswerably,  that  if  we  could  take  in  the  reference 
which  these  things  may  have  to  other  things  present,  past  and  to 
come,  to  the  whole  scheme  which  the  things  objected  against  are 
parts  of — these  very  things  might,  for  aught  we  know,  be  found  to  be 
not  only  consistent  with  justice,  but  instances  of  it.  Indeed  it  has 
been  shewn,  by  the  analogy  of  what  we  see,  not  only  possible  that 
this  may  be  the  case,  but  credible  that  it  is.  And  thus  objections 
drawn  from  such  things  are  answered,  and  Providence  is  vindicated, 
as  far  as  religion  makes  its  vindication  necessary  Hence  it  ap- 
pears, 2dly,  that  objections  against  the  divine  justice  and  goodness 
are  not  endeavored  to  be  removed,  by  shewing  that  the  like  objec- 
tions, allowed  to  be  really  conclusive,  lie  against  natural  providencej 
but  those  objections  being  supposed  and  shewn  not  to  be  conclusive, 
the  things  objected  against,  considered  as  matters  of  fact,  are  farther 
shewn  to  be  credible  from  their  conformity  to  the  constitution  of  na- 
ture; for  instance,  that  God  will  reward  and'punish  men  for  their 
actions  hereafter,  from  the  observation  that  he  does  reward  and  pun- 
ish them  for  their  actions  here.  And  this  I  apprehend  is  of  weight. 
And  I  add,  Sdly,  it  would  be  of  weight,  even  though  those  objections 
were  not  answered.  For,  there  being  the  proof  of  religion  above 
set  down,  and  religion  implying  several  facts,  for  instance  again,  the 
fact  last  mentioned,  that  God  will  reward  and  punish  men  for  their 
actions  hereafter — the  observation  that  his  present  method  of  gov- 
ernment is  by  rewards  and  punishments,  shews  that  future  fact  not 
to  be  incredible;  whatever  objections  men  may  think  they  have 
against  it,  as  unjust  or  unmerciful,  according  to  their  notions  of  jus- 
tice and  mercy,  or  as  improbable  from  their  belief  of  necessity.  I 
say,  as  improbable;  for  it  is  evident  no  objection  against  it,  as  unjust, 
can  be  urged  from  necessity,  since  this  notion  as  much  destroys  injus- 
tice as  it  does  justice.  Then  4thly,  though  objections  against  the 
reasonableness  of  the  system  of  religion,  cannot  indeed  be  answered 
without  entering  into  consideration  of  its  reasonableness,  yet  objec- 
tions against  the  credibility  or  truth  of  it  may.  Because  the  system 
of  it  is  reducible  into  what  is  properly  matter  of  fact;  and  the  truth 
the  probable  truth  of  facts,  may  be  shewn  without  consideration  of 
their  reasonableness.  Nor  is  it  necessary,  though  in  some  cases  and 
respects  it  is  highly  useful  and  proper,  yet  it  is  not  necessary,  to  give 
a  proof  of  the  reasonableness  of  every  precept  enjoined  us,  and  of 
every  particular  dispensation  of  Providence  which  conies  into  the 
system  of  religion,  indeed  the  more  thoroughly  a  person  of  a  right 
disposition  is  convinced  of  the  perfection  or  the  divine  nature  and 
conduct,  the  farther  he  will  advance  towards  that  perfection  of  reli- 
gion which  St  John*  speaks  of.  But  the  general  obligations  of  reli- 
2;ion  are  fully  made  out,  by  proving  the  reasonableness  of  the  prac- 
tice of  it.  And  that  the  practice  of  religion  is  reasonable  may  be 
shewn,  though  no  more  couid  be  proved  than  that  the  system  of  it 
may  be  so,  for  aught  we  know  to  tlie  contrary;  and  even  without  en- 
tering into  the  distj'ict   consideration  of  this.     And  from  hence, 


Chap.  VIIL  0/  J^aiure  to  Religion-.  19? 

5thly,  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  though  the  analogy  of  nature  is  not  an 
immediate  answer  to  objections  against  the  wisdom,  the  justice  or 
goodness  of  any  doctrine  or  precept  of  religion — yet  it  may  be,  as  it 
IS,  an  immediate  and  direct  answer  to  what  is  really  intended  by 
8uch  objections,  which  is  to  shew  that  the  things  objected  against  are 
incredible. 

Fourthly,  it  is  most  readily  acknowledged  that  the  foregoing  trea- 
tise is  by  no  means  satisfactory,  very  far  indeed  from  it;  but  so  would 
any  natural  institution  of  life  appear,  if  reduced  into  a  system, 
together  with  its  evidence.  Leaving  religion  out  of  the  case,  men 
are  divided  in  their  opinions  whether  our  pleasures  overbalance  our 
pains;  and  whether  it  be,  or  be  not,  eligible  to  live  in  this  world. 
And  were  all  such  controversies  settled,  which  perhaps  in  specula- 
tion would  be  found  involved  in  great  diflBculties,  and  were  it  deter- 
mined upon  the  evidence  of  reason,  as  nature  has  determined  it  to 
our  hands,  that  life  is  to  be  preserved — yet  siill  the  rules  which  God 
has  been  pleased  to  afford  us,  for  escaping  the  miseries  of  it  and  ob- 
taing  its  satisfactions,  the  rules,  ior  instance,  of  preserving  health, 
and  recovering  it  when  lost,  are  not  only  fallible  and  precarious,  but 
very  far  from  being  exact.  Nor  are  we  informed  by  nature  in  future 
contingencies  and  accidents,  so  as  to  render  it  at  all  certain  what  is 
the  best  method  of  managing  our  affairs.  What  will  be  the  success 
of  our  temporal  pursuits,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  word  suceesSf 
is  highly  doubtful.  And  what  will  be  tRe  success  of  them  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  i.  e.  what  happiness  or  enjoyment  wt. 
shall  obtain  by  them,  is  doubtful  in  a  much  higher  degree.  Indeed 
the  unsatisfactory  nature  of  the  evidence  with  which  we  are  obliged 
to  take  up,  in  the  daily  course  of  life,  is  scarce  to  be  expressed. 
Yet  men  do  not  throw  away  life,  or  disregard  the  interests  of  it, 
upon  account  of  this  doubtfulness.  The  evidence  of  religion  then 
being  admitted  real,  those  who  object  against  it  as  not  satisfactory, 
i.  e.  as  not  being  what  they  wish  it,  plainly  forget  the  very  condition 
of  our  being;  for  satisfaction  in  this  sense  does  not  belong  to  such  a 
creature  as  man.  And,  which  is  more  material,  they  forget  also  the 
very  nature  of  religion.  For,  religion  presupposes,  in  all  those  who 
will  embrace  it,  a  certain  degree  of  integrity  and  honesty,  which  it 
was  intended  to  try  whether  men  have  or  not,  and  to  exercise  in 
such  as  have  it,  in  order  to  its  improvement.  Religion  presupposes 
this  as  much,  and  in  the  same  sense,  as  speaking  to  a  man  presup- 
poses he  understands  the  language  in  which  you  speak,  or  as  warning 
a  man  of  any  danger  presupposes  that  he  hath  such  a  regard  to  him- 
self as  that  he  will  endeavor  to  avoid  it.  And  therefore  the  question 
is  not  at  all,  whether  the  evidence  of  religion  be  satisfactory,  but, 
whether  it  be  in  reason  sufficient  to  prove  and  discipline  that  virtue, 
which  it  presupposes.  Now  the  evidence  of  it  is  fully  sufficient  for 
all  those  purposes  of  probation,  how  far  soever  it  is  from  being  satis- 
factory as  to  the  purposes  of  curiosity,  or  any  other;  and  indeed  it 
it  answers  the  purposes  of  the  former  in  several  respects,  which  it 
would  not  do  if  it  were  as  overbearing  as  is  required.  One  might 
add  farther,  that  whether  the  motives  or  the  evidence  for  any  course 
of  action  be  satisfactory,  meaning  here  by  that  word,  what  satisfies 
a  man,  that  such  a  course  of  action  will  in  event  be  for  his  good — 


2U*0  Objections  ag'aimt  the  Jinulogy  Part  II. 

this  iiet'il  never  be,  and  I  think  strictly  speaking  never  is,  the  prac- 
tical tjuestiou  in  cummon  matters.  But  the  practical  question  in  all 
cases  is,  whether  the  evidence  for  a  course  of  action  be  such  as, 
taking  in  all  ciicumstances,  makes  the  faculty  within  us  which  is  the 
guide  and  judge  of  conduct,*  determine  that  course  of  action  to  be 
prudent.  Indeed  satibfaction  that  it  will  be  for  our  interest  or  hap- 
piness, abundantl  V  determines  an  action  to  be  prudent;  but  evidence 
almost  inlinitcly  lower  than  this  determines  actions  to  be  so  too, 
even  in  the  conduct  of  every  da}'. 

Fifthly,  as  to  the  objection  concerning  the  influence  which  this  ar- 
gumenr.  or  any  part  of  it,  may  or  may  not  be  expected  to  have  upoii 
men — I  observe  as  above,  that  religion  being  intended  for  a  trial  and 
exercise  of  the  morality  of  every  person's  character  who  is  a  subject 
of  it,  and  there  being,  as  \  have  shewn,  such  evidence  for  it  as  is  suf- 
ticient  in  reason  to  inSuence  men  to  embrace  it — to  object  that  it  is 
not  to  be  imagined  mankind  will  be  influenced  by  such  evidence,  is 
Mothing  to  the  purpose  of  the  forei';oing  treatise.  For  the  purpose  of 
it  is  not  to  inquire  what  sort  of  creatures  mankind  are,  but  what  the 
light  and  knowledge  which  is  afforded  them  requires  they  should  be; 
to  shew  how  in  reason  they  ough;  to  behave,  not  how  in  fact  they 
will  behave.  This  depends  upon  themselves,  and  is  their  own  con- 
cern, the  personal  concern  of  each  man  in  particular.  And  how 
iittle  regard  the  generalitj^have  to  it,  experience  indeed  does  too 
fully  shew.  But  religion,  considered  as  a  probation,  lias  had  itsend 
upon  all  pensons,  to  whom  it  has  been  proposed  with  evidence  suffi- 
cient in  reason  to  influence  their  practice:  for  by  this  means  they 
have  been  put  into  a  state  of  probation,  let  them  behave  as  they  v.ill 
in  it.  And  thus,  not  only  revelation,  but  reason  also,  teaches  us 
that  by  the  evidence  of  religion  being  laid  before  men,  the  designs  of 
Providence  are  carrying  on,  not  only  with  regard  to  those  who  will, 
but  likewise  with  regard  to  thosc^who  will  not.  be  influenced  by  it. 
However,  lastly,  the  objection  here  referred  to  allows  the  things  in- 
sisted upon  in  this  treatise  to  be  of  some  weight;  and  if  so,  it  may 
be  hoped  it  will  have  some  influence.  And  if  there  be  a  probability 
that  it  will  have  any  at  all,  there  is  the  same  reason  in  kind,  thouglj 
not  in  degree,  to  lay  it  before  men,  as  there  would  be  if  it  were  like- 
ly to  have  a  greater  influence. 

And  farther,  I  desiii-  it  may  be  considered,  with  respect  to  the 
whole  of  the  foregoing  objections,  that  in  this  treatise  I  have  argued 
upon  the  principles  of  others,!  not  m}'  own;  anl  have  omitted  what 
I  think  L  I.e.  arid  .-f  the  utmost  importance,  because  by  others  thought 
uninteiligihie,  or  not  true.  Thus  I  have  argued  upon  the  principles 
of  the  fatalists,  which  I  do  i;ot  believe;  and  have  omitted  a  thing  of 
the  utmost  iu>portance  which  I  do  believe,  the  moral  fitness  and  un- 
fif'iessof  :u;Uons,  prior  to  all  will  whatever:  which  1  apprehend  as 
certainly  \u  ii^it:mn-\t  the  divine  conduct,  as  speculative  truth  and 
falsehood     .         ;    Iv  determine  the  divine  judgment.     Indeed  the 

*  See  Dissertation  II. 
■j-By  arguiTift  i.^ciples  of  otliers,  the  reader  will  observe  is  meant  not 

proving   ;i'.      -  .  licinciplcs.  but  nol withstanding  them     Thus  religion  is 

pi*3ve«l,  n(  •*■  •uc!;ssity,  whjcli  is  absurd,  but  not\yith5tandiDg  or  eveu 

though  tha  -,  :ted  10  be  true. 


Chap.  VIII.  of  JSluture  to  Religion.  aOl 

principle  of  liberty  and  that  of  moral  fitness  so  force  themselves 
upon  the  mind,  that  moralists,  the  ancients  as  well  as  moderns,  have 
formed  their  language  upon  it.    And  probably  it  may  appear  in  mine) 
though  1  have  endeavored  to  avoid  it,  and  in  order  to  avoid  it,  have 
sometimes  been  obliged  to  express  myself  in  a  manner  which  will 
appear  strange  to  such  asdo  not  observe  the  reason  for  it;  but  the  gaa- 
eral  argument  here  pursued  does  not  at  all  suppose  or  proceed  upon 
these  principles.     Now,  these  two  abstract  principles  of  liberty  and 
moral  fitness  being  omitted,  religion   can  be  considered  in  no  other 
view  than  merely  as  a  question  o  ffact;  and  in  this  view  it  is  here  con- 
sidered.    It  is  obvious  that  Christianity,  and  the  proof  of  it,  are 
both  historical.     And  even  natural  religion  is,  properly,  a  matter  of 
fact;  for,  that  there  is  a  righteous  Governor  of  the  world,  is  se;  and 
this   proposition  contains  the  general  system  of  natural  religion. 
But  then,  several  abstract  truths,  and  in  particular  those  two  princi- 
ples, are  usually  taken  into  consideration  in  the  proof  of  it,  whereas 
it  is  here  treated  of  only  as  a  matter  of  fact.     To  explain  this; 
that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones,  is  an 
abstract  truth;  but  that  they  appear  so  to  our  mind,  is  only  a  matter 
of  fact.     And  this  last  must  have  been  admitted,  if  any  thing  was, 
by  those  ancient  sceptics  who  would  not  have  admitted  the  former; 
but  pretended  to  doubt,  whether  there  were  any  such  thing  as  truth, 
or,  whether  we  couid  certainly  depend  upon  our  faculties  of  under- 
standing for  the  knowledge  of  it  in  any  case.     So  likewise  that  there 
is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  an  original  standard  of  right  and  wrong  ia 
actions,  independent  upon  all  will,  but  which  unalterably  determines 
the  will  of  God  to  exercise  that  moral  government  over  the  world 
which  religion  teaches,  i.  e.  finally  and  upon  the  whole  to  reward  and 
punish  men  respectively  as  they  act  right  or  wrong — this  assertion 
contains  an  abstract  truth,  as  well  as  matter  of  fact.     But  suppose 
in  th6  present  state  every  man,  without  exception,  was  rewarded  and 
punished  in  exact  proportion  as  he  followed  or  transgressed  that 
sense  of  right  and  wrong,  which  God  has  implanted  in  the  nature  of 
every  man — this  would  not  be  at  all  an  abstract  truth,  but  only  a 
matter  of  fact.     And  though  this  fact  were  acknowledged  by  everjr 
one,  yet  the  very  same  difficulties  might  be  raised  as  are  now,  con* 
cerning  the  abstract  questions  of  liberty  and  moral  fitness;  and  we 
should  have  a  proof,  even  the  certain  one  of  experience,  that  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  world  was  perfectly  moral,  without  taking  in  the 
consideration  of  those  questions;  and  this  proof  would   remain,  ia 
■what  way  soever  they  were  determined.  And  thus,  God  having  given 
mankind  a  moral  faculty,  the  object  of  which  is  actions,  and  which 
naturally  approves  some  actions  as  right  and  of  good  desert,  and 
condemns  others  as  wrong  and  of  ill  desert;  that  he  will  finally  and 
upon  the  whole,  reward  the  former  and  punish  the  latter,  is  not  aa 
assertion  of  an  abstract  truth,  but  of  what  is  as  mere  a  fact  as  his 
doing  so  at  present  would  be.     This  future  fact  I  have,  not  indeed 
proved  with  the  force  with  which  it  might  be  proved,  from  the  prin- 
ciples of  liberty  and   moral  fitness,  but  without  them  have  given  a 
really  conclusive  practical  proof  of  it,  wvich  is  greatly  strengthened 
by  the  general  analogy  of  nature;  a  proof  easily  cavilled  at,  easilj 
shewn  not  to  be  demonstrative,  for  it  is  not  offered  as  such:  but  iiwi* 
B  1 


20i5  Ob'ections  against  the  Analogy,  Sfc.  Part  II. 

possible,  I  think,  to  be  evaded  or  answered.  And  thus  the  obliga- 
tions of  religion  are  made  out,  exclusively  of  the  questions  concern- 
ing liberty  and  moral  fitness,  which  have  been  perplexed  with  diffi- 
culties and  abstruse  reasonings,  as  every  thing  may. 

Hence  therefore  may  be  observed  distinctly  what  is  the  force  of 
this  treatise.  It  will  be,  to  such  as  are  convinced  of  religion  upon 
the  proof  arising  out  of  the  two  last  mentioned  principles,  an  addi- 
tional proof  and  a  confirmation  of  it;  to  such  as  do  not  admit  those 
principles,  an  original  proof  of  it,*  and  a  confirmation  of  that  proof. 
Those  who  believe,  will  here  find  the  scheme  of  Christianity  cleared 
of  objections,  and  the  evidence  of  it  in  a  peculiar  manner  strength- 
ened; those  who  do  not  believe,  will  at  least  be  shewn  the  absurdity 
of  all  attempts  to  prove  Christianity  false,  the  plain  undoubted  cred- 
ibility of  it;  and,  I  hope,  a  good  deal  more. 

And  thus,  though  some  perhaps  may  seriously  think  that  analogy, 
as  here  urged,  has  too  great  stress  laid  upon  it:  and  ridicule,  unan- 
swerable ridicule,  may  be  applied,  to  shpw  the  argument  from  it  in  a 
disadvantageous  light — yet  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  it  is  a 
veal  one.  For  religion,  both  natural  and  revealed,  implying  in  it  nu- 
merous facts,  analogy  being  a  confirmation  of  all  facts  to  which  it 
can  be  applied,  as  it  is  the  only  proof  of  most,  cannot  but  be  admit- 
ted by  every  one  to  be  a  material  thing,  and  truly  of  weight  on  the 
side  of  religion,  both  natural  and  revealed;  and  it  ought  to  be  partic- 
ularly regarded  by  such  as  profess  to  follow  nature,  and  to  be  less 
satisfied  with  abstract  reasonings. 

*  Page  102,  &e. 


CONCLUSION 


WHATEVER  account  may  be  given  of  the  strange  Inattention 
and  disregard,  in  some  ages  and  countries,  to  a  matter  of"  such  im- 
portance as  religion,  it  would,  before  experience,  be  incredible  that 
there  should  be  the  like  disregard  in  those  who  have  had  the  moral 
system  of  the  world  laid  before  them,  as  it  is  by  Christianity,  and 
often  inculcated  upon  them;  because  this  moral  system  carries  in  it 
a  good  degree  of  evidence  for  its  truth,  upon  its  being  barelv  pro- 
posed to  our  thoughts.  There  is  no  need  of  abstruse  reasonings  and 
distinctions,  to  convince  an  unprejudiced  understanding  that  there 
is  a  God  who  made  and  governs  the  world,  and  will  judgaitin  right- 
eousness, though  they  may  be  necessary  to  answer  abstruse  difficul- 
ties, when  once  such  are  raised;  when  the  very  meaning  of  those 
words  which  express  most  intelligibly  the  general  doctrine  of  reli- 
gion, is  pretended  to  be  uncertain,  and  the  clear  truth  of  the  thing 
itself  is  obscured  by  the  intricacies  of  speculation.  But  to  an  un- 
prejudiced mind,  ten  thousand  thousand  instances  of  design  cannot 
but  prove  a  designer.  And  it  is  intuitively  manifest,  that  creatures 
ought  to  live  under  a  dutiful  sense  of  their  Maker,  and  that  justice 
and  charity  must  be  his  laws,  to  creatures  whom  he  has  made  social 
and  placed  in  society.  Indeed  the  truth  of  revealed  religion,  pecul- 
iarly so  called,  is  not  self  evident,  but  requires  external  proof  ih 
order  to  its  being  received.  Yet  inattention  among  us  to  revealed 
religion,  will  be  found  to  imply  the  same  dissolute  immoral  temper 
of  mind  as  inattention  to  natural  religion;  because,  when  both  are 
laid  before  us  in  the  manner  they  are  in  Christian  countries  of  liberty, 
our  obligations  to  inquire  into  both,  and  to  embrace  both  upon  sup- 
position of  their  truth,  are  obligations  of  the  same  nature.  For,  rev- 
elation claims  to  be  the  voice  of  God;  and  our  obligation  to  attend 
to  his  voice  is  surely  moral  in  all  cases.  And  as  it  is  insisted  that 
its  evidence  is  conclusive,  upon  thorough  consideration  of  it,  so  it 
offers  itself  to  us  with  manifest  obvious  appearances  of  having  some- 
thing more  than  human  in  it,  and  therefore  in  all  reason  requires  to 
have  its  claims  most  seriously  examined  into.  It  is  to  be  added,  that 
though  light  and  knowledge,  in  what  manner  soever  afforded  us,  is 
equally  from  God.  yet  a  miraculous  revelation  has  a  peculiar  ten- 
dency, from  the  first  principles  of  our  nature,  to  awaken  mankind, 
and  inspire  them  with  reverence  and  awe;  and  this  is  a  peculiar  obli- 
gation to  attend  to  what  claims  to  be  so  with  such  appearances  of 
truth.  It  is  therefore  most  certain  that  our  obligations  to  inquire 
seriously  into  the  evidence  of  Christianity,  and  upon  supposition  of 
ts  truth  to  embrace  it,  are  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  moral  in 


204  Conclusion,    .  Part  IF. 

the  highest  and  most  proper  sense.  Let  us  then  suppose  that  the 
evidence  of  religion  in  general,  and  of  Christianity,  has  been  seri- 
ously inquired  into  by  all  reasonable  men  among  us  Yet  we  find 
many  professedly  to  reject  both,  upon  speculativfe  principles  of  infi- 
delity. And  all  of  them  do  not  content  themselves  with  a  bare  neg- 
lect of  religion,  and  er^oying  their  imaginary  freedom  from  its 
restraints.  Some  go  much  beyond  this.  They  deride  God's  moral 
government  over  the  world.  They  renounce  his  protection,  and 
defy  his  justice.  They  ridicule  and  vilify  Christianity,  and  blas- 
pheme the  Author  of  it;  and  take  all  occasions  to  manifest  a  scorn 
and  contempt  of  revelation.  This  amounts  to  an  active  setting 
themselves  against  religion,  ^>  what  may  be  considered  as  a  positive 
principle  of  irreligion;  which  they  cultivate  within  themselves,  and, 
whether  they  intend  this  effect  or  not,  render  habitual,  as  a  good  man 
does  the  contrary  principle.  And  others,  who  are  not  chargeable 
with  all  this  profligateness,  yet  are  in  avowed  opposition  to  religion, 
as  if  discovered  to  be  groundless.  Now  admitting,  which  is  the  sup- 
position we  go  upon,  that  these  persons  act  upon  what  they  think 
principles  of  reason,  and  otherwise  they  are  not  to  be  argued  with, 
it  is  really  inconceivable  that  thej  shoulrl  imagine  they  clearly  see 
the  whole  evidence  of  it,  considered  in  itself,  to  be  nothing  at  all; 
nor  do  they  pretend  this.  They  are  far  indeed  from  having  a  just 
notion  of  its  evidence;  biit  they  would  not  say  its  evidence  was 
nothing,  if  they  thought  the  system  of  it,  with  all  its  circumstances, 
were  credible,  like  other  matters  of  science  or  history.  So  that  their 
manner  of  treating  it  must  proceed,  either  from  such  kind  of  objec- 
tions against  all  religion  as  have  been  answered  or  obviated  in  the 
former  part  of  this  treatise,  or  else  from  objections  and  difficulties 
supposed  more  peculiar  to  Christianity.  Thus,  they  entertain  preju- 
dices against  the  whole  notion  of  a  revelation  and  miraculous  inter- 
positions. They  find  things  in  Scripture,  whether  in  incidental  pas- 
sages or  in  the  general  scheme  of  it,  which  appear  to  them  unrea- 
sonable. They  take  for  granted  that  if  Christiatiity  were  true,  the 
light  of  it  must  have  been  more  general,  and  the  evidence  of  it  more 
satisfactory,  or  rather  overbearing;  that  it  must  and  would  have 
been,  in  so.^le  way,  otherwise  put  and  left  than  it  is.  Now  this  is 
Kot  imagining  they  see  the  evidence  itself  to  be  nothing  or  inconsid- 
fTablc,  but  quite  another  thing.  It  is  being  fortified  against  the  evi- 
■ucnce  in  some  degree  acknowledged,  by  thinkin*  they  see  the  system 
of  Christianity,  or  somewhat  which  appears  to  them  necessarily  con- 
nected with  it,  to  be  incredii)le  or  false;  fortified  against  that  evi- 
dence which  might  otherwise  make  great  impression  upon  them.  Or, 
lastly,  if  any  of  these  persons  are,  upon  the  whole,  in  doubt  concern- 
ing the  truth  of  Christianity,  their  behaviour  seems  owing  to  their 
taking  for  granted,  through  strange  inattention,  that  such  doubting 
is,  in  a  manner,  the  same  thing  as  being  certain  against  it. 

To  these  persons,  and  to  this  state  of  opinion  concerning  religion, 
the  foregoing  treatise  is  adapted.  For,  all  the  general  objections 
against  the  moral  system  of  nature  having  been  obviated,  it  is  shewn 
that  there  is  not  any  peculiar  presumption  at  all  against  Christianity, 
either  considered  as  not  discoverable  by  reason,  or  as  unlike  to  what 
is  so  discoveredj  nor  any  worth  mentioning  against  it  as  miraculous, 


Paut  U.  Contusion.  U.Qb 

if  any  at  all;  none  certainly  which  can  rentier  it  in  the  least  incred- 
ible.    It  is  shewn  that  upon  supposition  of  a  divine  revelation,  the 
analogy  of  nature  renders  it  beforehand  highly  credible,  I  think 
probable,  that  many  things  in  it  must  appear  liable  to  great  objec- 
tions; and  that  we  must  be  incompetent  judges  of  it  to  a  great 
degree.     This  observation  is,  1  think,  unquestionably  true,  and  of 
the  very  utmost  importance;  but  it  is  urged,  as  I  hope  it  will  be  un- 
derstood, with  great  caution  of  not  vilifying  the  faculty  of  reason, 
which  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord  within  us;*  though  it  can  afford  no 
light  where  it  does  not  shine,  nor  judge  where  it  has  no  principle  to 
judge  upon.     The  objections  here  spoken  of,  being  first  answered  in 
the  view  of  objections  against  Christianity  as  a  matter  of  fact,  are  in 
the  next  place  considered  as  urged  more  immediately  against  the  wis- 
dom, justice  and  goodness  of  the  Christian  dispensation.     And  it  is 
fully  made  out  that  they  admit  of  exactly  the  like  answer,  in  every 
respect,  to  what  the  like  objections  against  the  constitution  of  nature 
admit  of;  that,  as  partial  views  give  the  appearance  of  wrong  to 
things,  which  upon  farther  consideration  and  knowledge  of  their 
relations  to  other  things  are  found  just  and  good,  so  it  is  perfectly 
credible  that  the  things  objected,  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  the  Christian  dispensation,  may  be  rendered  instances  of  wisdom 
and  goodness  by  theip  reference  to  other  things  beyond  our  view;  be- 
cause Christianity  is  a  scheme  as  much  above  our  comprehension,  as 
that  of  nature,  and  like  that,  a  scheme  in  which  means  are  made  use 
of  to  accomplish  ends,  and  which,  as  is  most  credible,  may  be  carried 
on  by  general  laws.     And  it  ought  to  be  attended  to,  that  this  is  not 
an  answer  taken  merely  or  chiefly  from  our  ignorance,  but  from 
somewhat  positive  which  our  observation  shews  us.     For  to  like  ob- 
jections the  like  answer  is  experienced  to  be  just,  in  numberless  par- 
allel cases.     The  objections  against  the  Christian  dispensation,  and 
the  method  by  which  it  is  carried  on,  having  been  thus  obviated  in 
general  and  together,  the  chief  of  them  are  considered  distinctly, 
and  the  particular  things  objected  to  are  shewn  credible,  by  their 
perfect  analogy,  each  apart,  to  the  constitution  of  nature.     Thus,  if 
man  be  fallen  from  his  primitive  state,  and  to  be  restored,  and  infi- 
nite wisdom  and-  power  engages  in  accomplishing  our  recovery,  it 
were  to  have  been  expected,  it  is  said,  that  this  should  have  been 
effected  at  once,  and  not  by  such  a  long  series  of  means,  and  such  a 
various  economy  of  persons  and  things;  one  dispensation  prepara- 
tory to  another,  this  to  a  farther  one,  and  so  on  through  an  indefinite 
number  of  ages,  before  the  end  of  the  scheme  proposed  can  be  com- 
pletely accomplished;  a  scheme  conducted  by  infinite  wisdom,  and 
executed  by  almighty  power.     But  now  on  the  contrary,  our  finding 
that  every  thing  in  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature  is  thus  car- 
ried on,  shews  such  expectations  concerning  revelation  to  be  highly 
unreasonable,  and  is  a  satifactory  answer  to  them,  when  urged  as  ob- 
jections against  the  credibility  that  the  great  scheme  of  Providence 
in  the  redemption  of  the  world  may  be  of  this  kind,  and  to  be  accom- 
plished in  this  manner.     As  to  the  particular  method  of  our  redemp- 
tion, the  appointmeot  of  a  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  this  has 

*  Prov.  XX.  27. 


208  Conclusion.  Part  II. 

been  shewn  to  be  most  obviously  analagous  to  tiie  general  conduct  of 
nature,  i.  e.  the  God  of  nature  in  appointing  others  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  his  mercy,  as  we  experience  in  the  daily  course  of  Provi- 
dence. The  condition  of  this  world,  which  the  doctrine  of  our  re- 
demption by  Christ  presupposes,  so  much  falls  in  with  natural  ap- 
pearances, that  heathen  moralists  inferred  it  from  those  appearances; 
inferred  that  human  nature  was  fallen  from  its  original  rectitude,  and 
in  consequence  of  this  degraded  from  its  primitive  happiness.  Or, 
however  this  opinion  came  into  the  world,  these  appearances  must 
have  kept  up  the  tradition,  and  confirmed  the  belief  of  it.  And  as 
it  was  the  general  opinion  under  the  light  of  nature  that  repentance 
and  reformation,  alone  and  by  itself,  was  not  sufficient  to  do  away 
sin,  and  procure  a  full  remission  of  the  penalties  annexed  to  it,  and  as 
the  reason  of  the  thing  does  not  at  all  lead  to  any  such  conclusion— 
sojevery  day's  experience  shews  us  that  reformation  is  not,  in  any  sort, 
sufficient  to  prevent  the  present  disadvantages  and  miseries  which,  in 
the  natural  course  of  things,God  has  annexed  to  folly  and  extravagance. 
Yet  there  may  be  ground  to  think  that  the  punishments,  which  by 
the  general  laws  of  divine  government  are  annexed  to  vice,  may 
be  prevented;  that  provision  may  have  been  even  originally  made, 
that  they  should  be  prevented  by  some  means  or  other,  though  they 
could  not  by  reformation  alone.  For  we  h^ve  daily  instances  of 
such  mercy,  in  the  general  conduct  of  nature;  compassion  provided 
for  misery,*  medicines  for  diseases^  friends  against  enemies.  There 
is  provision  made,  in  the  original  constitution  of  the  world,  that 
much  of  the  natural  bad  consequences  of  our  follies,  which  persons 
themselves  alone  cannot  prevent,  may  be  prevented  by  the  assistance 
of  others;  assistance  which  nature  enables,  and  disposes,  and  ap- 
points them  to  afford.  By  a  method  of  goodness  analagous  to  this, 
V  hen  the  world  lay  in  wickedness  and  consequently  in  ruin,  0od  ^o 
loved  the  ivorld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  to  save  it;  and  he 
being  made  perfect  by  suffering,  became  the  author  of  eternal  salva- 
tion to  all  them  that  obey  himi  Indeed  neither  reason  nor  analogy 
would  lead  us  to  think,  in  particular,  that  the  interposition  of  Christ, 
in  the  manner  in  which  he  did  interpose,  would  be  of  that  efficacy 
for  recovery  of  the  world  which  the  Scripture  teaches  us  it  was;  but 
neither  would  reason  nor  analogy  lead  us  to  think,  that  other  partic- 
ular means  would  be  of  the  efficacy  which  experience  shews  they  are, 
in  numberless  instances.  And  therefore,  as  the  case  before  us  does 
not  admit  of  experience,  so  that  neither  reason  nor  analogy  caa 
shew  how,  or  in  what  particular  way,  the  interposition  of  Christ,  as 
revealed  in  Scripture,  is  of  that  efficacy  which  it  is  there  represented 
to  be — this  is  no  kind  nor  degree  of  presumption  against  its  being 
really  of  that  efficacy.  Farther — t\ie  objections  against  Christianity 
from  the  light  of  it  not  being  universal,  nor  its  evidence  so  strong  as 
might  possibly  be  given  us,  have  been  answered  by  the  general  anal- 
ogy of  nature.  That  God  has  made  such  variety  of  creatures,  is  in- 
deed an  answer  to  the  former;  but  that  he  dispenses  his  gifts  in  such 
variety,  both  of  degrees  and  kinds,  amongst  creatures  of  the  same 
species,  and  even  to  the  same  individuals  at  different  times,  is  a  mors 

*  Fermon  at  tbe  Rolls,  page  105,       t  J<»fcni  Hi.  16.    Heb.  v.  9. 


Fart  II.  Conclusion.  S.07 

obvious  and  full  answer  to  it.  And  it  is  so  far  from  being  the  method 
of  Providence  in  other  cases,  to  afford  us  such  overbearing  evidence 
as  some  require  in  proof  of  Christianity,  that  on  the  contrary,  the 
evidence  upon  which  we  are  naturally  appointed  to  act  in  common 
matters,  throughout  a  very  great  part  of  life,  is  doubtful  in  a  high  de~ 
gree.  And  admitting  the  fact,  that  God  has  afforded  to  some  no  more 
than  doubtful  evidence  of  religion,  the  same  account  may  be  given  of 
it  as  of  difficulties  and  temptations  with  regard  to  practice.  But  as 
it  is  not  impossible,*  surely,  that  this  alleged  doubtfulness  may  be- 
inen's  own  fault,  it  deserves  their  most  serious  consideration  whether 
it  be  not  so.  However,  it  is  certain  that  doubting  implies  a  degree 
of  evidence  for  that  of  which  we  doubt;  and  that  this  degree  of  evi- 
dence as  really  lays  us  under  obligations,  as  demonstrative  evidence. 
The  whole  then  of  religion  is  throughout  credible,  nor  is  there,  I 
think,  any  thing  relating  to  the  revealed  dispensation  of  things,  more 
different  from  the  experienced  constitution  and  course  of  nature, 
than  some  parts  of  the  constitution  of  nature  are  from  other  parts  ot 
it.  And  if  so,  the  only  question  which  remains  is,  what  positive 
evidence  can  be  alledged  for  the  truth  of  Christianity.  This  too  in 
general  has  been  considered,  and  the  objections  against  it  estimated. 
Deduct  therefore  what  is  to  be  deducted  from  that  evidence,,  upon 
account  of  any  weight  which  may  be  thought  to  remain  in  these  ob- 
jections, after  what  the  analogy  of  nature  has  suggested  in  answer 
to  them,  and  then  consider  what  are  the  practical  consequences  from 
all  this,  upon  the  most  sceptical  principles  one  can  argue  upon,  (for 
I  am  writing  to  persons  who  entertain  these  principles)  and  upon 
such  consideration  it  will  be  obvious  that  immorality,  as  little  excuse 
as  it  admits  of  in  itself,  is  greatly  aggravated  in  persons  who  have 
been  made  acquainted  with  Christianity,  whether  they  believe  it  or 
not;  because  the  moral  system  of  nature,  or  natural  religion,  which 
Christianity  lays  before  us,  approves  itself,  almost  intuitively,  to  a 
reasonable  mind  upon  seeing  it  proposed.  In  the  next  place,  with 
regard  to  Christianity  it  will  be  observed,  that  there  is  a  middle  be- 
tween a  full  satisfaction  of  the  truth  of  it,  and  a  satisfaction  of  the 
contrary.  The  middle  state  of  mind  between  these  two,  consists  in 
a  serious  apprehension  that  it  may  be  true,  joined  with  doubt  whether 
it  be  so.  And  this,  upon  the  best  judgment  I  am  able  to  make,  is  as 
far  towards  speculative  infidelity  as  any  sceptic  can  at  all  be  sup- 
posed to  go,  who  has  had  true  Christianity,  with  the  proper  evidence 
of  it,  laid  before  him,  and  has  in  any  tolerable  measure  considered 
them.  For  I  would  not  be  mistaken  to  comprehend  all  who  have 
ever  heard  of  it,  because  it  seems  evident  that  in  many  countries, 
called  Christian,  neither  Christianity  nor  its  evidence  are  fairly  laid 
before  men.  And  in  places  where  both  are,  there  appear  to  be  some 
who  have  very  little  attended  to  either,  and  who  reject  Christianity 
with  a  scorn  proportionate  to  their  inattention,  and  yet  are  by  no 
means  without  understanding  in  other  matters.  Now  it  has  been 
shewn  that  a  serious  apprehension  that  Christianity  may  be  true, 
lays  persons  under  the  strictest  obligations  of  a  serious  regard  to  it 
throughout  the  whole  of  their  life;  a  regard  not  the  same  exactly,  but 

•  Page  169,  &?, 


208  Conclusion,  Part  II. 

in  many  respects  nearly  the  same,  with  what  a  full  conviction  of  its 
truth  would  lay  them  under.  Lastly,  it  will  appear  that  blasphemy 
and  profaneness,  I  mean  with  regard  to  Christianity,  are  absolutely 
without  excuse.  For  there  is  no  temptation  to  it  but  from  the  wan- 
tonness of  vanity  or  mirth;  and  these,  considering  the  infinite  impor- 
tance of  the  subject,  are  no  such  temptations  as  to  afford  any  excuse 
for  it.  If  this  be  a  just  account  of  things,  and  yet  men  can  go  on  to 
vilify  or  disregard  Christianity,  which  is  to  talk  and  act  as  if  they 
had  a  demonstration  of  its  falsehood,  there  is  no  reason  to  think  they 
would  alter  their  behaviour  to  any  purpose,  though  there  were  a 
demonstration  of  its  truth. 


TWO  BRIEF 

DISSERTATIONS. 

I.  Of  Personal  Identity. 
II.  Of  the  Nature  of  Virtue. 

C2 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

IN  the  first  copy  of  these  papers,  I  had  inserted  the  two  following 
Dissertations  into  the  chapters,  OJ  a  Future  Life,  and,  Of  the  Moral 
Government  of  Gody  with  which  they  are  closely  connected.  But  as 
they  do  not  directly  fall  under  the  title  of  the  foregoing  Treatise? 
and  would  have  kept  the  subject  of  it  too  long  out  of  sight,  it  seemed 
more  proper  to  place  them  by  themselves. 


DISSERTATION  I. 


Of  Personal  Identity. 


WHETHER  we  are  to  live  in  a  future  state,  as  it  is  the  most  im- 
portant question  which  can  possibly  be  asked,  so  it  is  the  most  intel- 
ligible one  which  can  be  expressed  in  language.  Yet  strange  per- 
plexities have  been  raised  about  the  meaning  of  that  identity  or 
sameness  of  person,  which  is  implied  in  the  notion  of  our  living  now 
and  hereafter,  or  in  any  two  successive  moments.  And  the  solution 
of  these  diflScuIties  hath  been  stronger  than  the  difficulties  them- 
selves. For.  personal  identity  has  explained  so  by  some,  as  to  ren- 
der the  inquiry  concerning  a  future  life  of  no  consequence  at  all  to 
us,  the  persons  who  are  making  it.  And  thougli  few  men  can  be 
misled  by  such  subtleties,  yet  it  may  be  proper  a  little  to  consider 
them. 

Now,  when  i|t  is  asked  wherein  personal  identity  consists,  the 
answer  should  be  the  same  as  if  it  were  asked  wherein  consists  simil- 
itude or  equality;  that  all  attempts  to  define  would  but  perplex  it. 
Yet  there  is  no  difficulty  at  all  in  ascertaining  the  idea.  For  as, 
upon  two  triangles  being  compared  or  viewed  together,  there  arises 
to  the  mind  the  idea  of  similitude,  or  upon  twice  two  and  four,  the 
idea  of  equality — so  likewise,  upon  comparing  the  consciousness  of 
one's  self  or  one's  own  existence  in  any  two  moments,  there  as  im- 
mediately arises  to  the  mind  the  idea  of  personal  identity.  And  as 
the  two  former  comparisons  not  only  give  us  the  ideas  of  similitude 
and  equality,  but  also  shew  us  that  two  triangles  are  alike,  and  twice 
two  and  four  are  equal — so  the  latter  comparison  not  only  gives  us 
the  idea  of  personal  idenity,  but  also  shews  us  the  identity  of  our- 
selves in  those  two  moments;  the  present,  suppose,  and  that  imme- 
diately past;  or  the  present,  and  that,  a  month,  a  year,  or  twenty 
years  past.  Or  in  other  words,  by  reflecting  upon  that  which  is  my 
self  now,  and  that  which  was  my  self  twenty  years  ago,  I  discern 
they  are  not  two,  but  one  and  the  same  self. 

But  though  consciousness  of  what  is  past  does  thus  ascertain  our 
personal  identity  to  ourselves,  yet  to  say  that  it  makes  personal 
identity,  or  is  necessary  to  our  being  the  same  persons,  is  to  say  that 
a  person  has  not  existed  a  single  moment,  nor  done  one  action,  but 
what  he  can  remember;  indeed  none  but  what  he  reflects  upon. 
And  one  should  really  think  it  self-evident,  that  consciousness  of 
personal  identity  presupposes,  and  therefore  cannot  constitute,  per- 
sonal identity,  any  more  than  knowledge  in  any  other  case  can  con- 
stitute truth,  which  it  presupposes. 


^t2  Personal  Idenlily.  Diss.  1, 

This  wonderful  mistake  maj  possibly  have  arisen  from  hence,  that 
to  be  endued  with  consciousness  is  inseparable  from  the  idea  of  a 
person  or  intelligent  being.  For,  this  might  be  expressed  inaccu- 
rately thus,  that  consciousness  makes  personality,  and  from  hence  it 
might  be  concluded  to  make  personal  identity.  But  though  present 
consciousness  of  what  we  at  present  do  and  feel  is  necessary  to  our 
being  the  persons  we  now  are,  yet  present  consciousness  of  past 
actions  or  feelings  is  not  necessary  to  our  being  the  same  persons, 
who  performed  those  actions  or  had  those  feelings. 

The  inquiry,  what  makes  vegetables  the  same  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  word,  does  not  appear  to  iiave  any  relation  to  this 
of  personal  identity,  because  the  word  snme,  when  applied  to  them 
and  to  person,  is  not  only  applied  ta  different  subjects,  but  it  is  also 
used  in  different  senses.  For  when  a  man  swears  to  the  same  tree 
as  having  stood  fifty  years  in  the  same  place,  he  means  only  the  same 
as  to  all  the  purposes  of  property  and  uses  of  common  life.  aniL  not 
that  the  tree  has  been  all  that  time  the  same  in  the  strict  phiiosai.hi- 
cal  sense  of  the  word.  For  he  does  not  know,  whether  any  one  par- 
ticle of  the  present  tree  be  the  same  with  any  one  particle  of  the 
tree  which  stood  in  the  same  place  fifty  years  ago.  And  if  they  have 
not  one  common  particle  of  matter,  they  cannot  be  the  same  tree  in 
the  proper  philosophic  sense  of  the  wor«i  same;  it  being  evidently  a 
contradiction  in  terms  to  say  they  are,  when  no  part  of  their  sub- 
stance and  no  one  of  their  properties  is  the  same;  no  part  of  their 
substance,  by  the  supposition;  no  one  of  their  properties,  because  it 
is  allowed  that  the  same  property  cannot  be  transferred  from  one 
substance  to  another.  And  therefore  when  we  say  the  identity  or 
sameness  of  a  plant  consists  in  a  continuation  of  the  same  life,  com- 
municated under  the  same  organization  to  a  number  of  particles  of 
matter,  whether  the  same  or  not — the  word  same,  when  applied  to 
life  and  to  organization,  cannot  possibly  be  understood  to  signify 
what  it  signifies  in  this  very  sentence  when  applied  to  matter.  In  a 
loose  and  popular  sense  then,  the  life  and  the  organization  and  the 
plant  are  justly  said  to  be  the  same,  notwithstanding  the  perpetual 
change  of  the  parts.  But  in  a  strict  and  philosophical  manner  of 
speech,  no  man,  no  being,  no  mode  of  being,  no  any  thing,  can  be 
the  same  with  that  with  which  it  hath  indeed  nothing  the  same. 
Now  sameness  is  used  in  this  latter  sense  when  applied  to  persons. 
The  identity  of  these,  therefore,  cannot  subsist  with  diversity  of  sub- 
stance. 

The  thing  here  considered,  and  demonstratively,  as  I  think,  deter- 
mined, is  proposed  by  Mr.  Locke  in  these  words,  tchpther  it,  i.  e. 
the  same  self  or  person,  be  the  same  identical  substance?  And  he 
has  suggested  what  is  a  much  better  answer  to  tlie  question  than  that 
which  he  gives  it  in  form.  For  he  defines  person,  a  thinking  intelli- 
gent being,  &c.  and  personal  identity,  the  sameness  of  a  rntional 
being.*  The  question  then  is,  whether  the  same  rational  being  is 
the  same  substance;  whicli  needs  no  answer,  because  being  and  sul:«» 
stance  is  this  place  stand  for  th.e  same  idea.  The  ground  of  the 
doubt,  whether  the  same  person  be  the  same  substance,  is  said  to  be 

*  Lockf's  WorkSj  vol.  1 .  p.  146, 


Diss.  I.  Personal  Identity.  219 

this,  that  the  consciousness  of  our  own  existence  in  youth  antl  in  oM 
age,  or  in  any  two  joint  successive  moments,  is  not  the.  same  individ- 
ual action,*  i.  e.  not  the  same  consciousness,  but  different  successive 
consciousness.  Now  it  is  strange  that  tl»is  should  have  occasioned 
such  perplexities.  For  it  is  surely  conceivable  that  a  person  may 
have  a  capacity  of  knowing  some  object  or  other  to  be  the  same  now, 
which  it  was  when  he  contemplated  it  formerly;  yet  in  this  case, 
where  by  the  supposition  the  object  is  perceived  to  be  the  same,  the 
perception  of  it  in  any  two  moments  cannot  be  one  and  the  same 
perception.  And  thus,  though  the  successive  consciousnesses  wliich 
we  have  of  our  own  existence  are  not  the  same,  yet  are  they  con- 
sciousnesses of  one  and  the  same  thing  or  object:  of  the  same  person, 
self,  or  living  agent.  The  person  of  whose  existence  the  conscious- 
ness is  felt  now,  and  was  felt  an  hour  or  a  year  ago,  is  discerned  to 
he,  not  two  persons,  but  one  and  the  same  person;  ar.d  therefore  is 
one  and  the  same. 

Mr.  Lockers  observations  upon  this  subject  appear  hasty;  and  he 
seems  to  profess  himself  dissatisfied  with  suppositions  which  he  has 
made  relating  to  it.t  But  some  of  those  hasty  observations  havi; 
been  carried  to  a  strange  length  by  others,  whose  notion,  when  traced 
and  examined  to  the  bottom,  amounts,  1  think,  to  this:|  "  That  per- 
sonality is  not  a  permanent,  but  a  transient  thing;  tliat  it  lives  atid 
<lies,  begins  and  ends  continually;  that  no  one  can  atiy  more  remain 
one  and  the  same  person  two  moments  together,  than  two  succes- 
sive moments  can  be  one  and  the  same  moment:  that  our  substance 
is  indeed  continually  changing;  but  whether  this  be  so  or  not,  is,  it 
seems,  nothing  to  the  purpose,  since  it  is  not  substance,  but  con- 
sciousness alone,  which  constitutes  personality,  which  consciousness 
being  successive  cannot  be  the  same  in  any  two  moments,  nor  con- 
sequently the  personality  constituted  by  it."  And  from  hence  it 
must  follow,  thatitis  a  fallacy  upon  ourselves  to  charge  our  present 
selves  with  any  thing  we  did,  or  to  imagine  our  present  selves  inter- 
ested in  any  thing  which  befel  us  yesterday,  or  that  our  present  self 
will  be  interested  in  what  will  befal  us  tomorrow;  since  our  present 
self  is  not,  in  reality,  the  same  with  theself  of  yesterday,  but  another 
like  self  or  person  coming  in  its  room,  and  mistaken  for  it;  to  which 
another  self  will  succeed  tomorrow.  This,  I  say.  must  follow;  for 
if  the  self  or  person  of  to-day,  and  that  of  to-morrow,  are  not  the 
same,  but  only  like  persons,  the  person  of  to-day  is  really  no  u)orc 
interested  in  what  will  befal  the  person  of  to-morrow,  than  in  what 
will  befal  any  other  person.  It  may  ^je  thought  perhaps,  that  this  is 
not  a  just  representation  of  the  opinion  we  are  speaking  of;  because 
those  who  maintain  it  allow,  that  a  person  is  the  same  as  far  back  a^ 
his  remembrance  reaches.  And  indeed  they  do  use  the  words  iden- 
tity and  same  person.  Nor  will  language  permit  these  words  to  be 
laid  aside;  since  if  they  were,  there  must  be,  I  know  not  what  ridic- 
ulous periphrasis  substituted  in  the  room  of  them  But  they  cannot, 
consistently  with  themselves,  mean  that  the  person  is  really  the  same. 

*  Locke,  page  146,  147         |  J^cke,  page  152. 

i  See  au  answer  to  Df .  Clarke's  third  defence  of  his  letter  to  Mr.  Dodwell,  2d  edit  >• 
pnge  44,  56,  &c. 


214  I'ersonal  Identity.  Diss.  I 

For,  it  is  self-evident  that  the  personality  cannot  be  really  the  same, 
if,  as  they  expressly  assert,  that  in  which  it  consists  is  not  the  same. 
And  as,  consistently  with  themselves,  they  cannot,  so  I  think  it  ap- 
pears they  do  not,  mean  that  the  person  is  really  the  same,  but  orly 
that  he  is  so  in  a  fictitious  sense;  in  such  a  sense  only  as  they  a^serr, 
for  this  they  do  assert,  that  any  number  of  persons  whatever  m;iy  be 
the  same  person.  The  bare  unfolding  this  notion,  and  layinij  it  tlms 
naked  and  open,  seems  the  best  confutation  of  it.  However,  since 
great  stress  is  said  to  be  put  upon  it,  I  add  the  following  things. 

First,  this  notion  is  absolutely  contradictory  to  that  certain  con- 
viction which  necessarily  and  every  moment  rises  within  us, 
when  we  turn  our  thoughts  upon  ourselves,  when  we  reflect  upon 
what  is  past,  and  look  forward  upon  what  is  to  come.  All  imagina- 
tion of  a  daily  change  of  that  living  agent  which  each  man  calls  him- 
self, for  another,  or  of  any  such  change  throughout  our  whole  present 
life,  is  entirely  borne  down  by  our  natural  sense  of  things.  Nor  is  it 
possible  for  a  person  in  his  wits  to  alter  his  conduct,  with  regard  to 
nis  health  or  aflfaire,  from  a  suspicion  that  though  he  should  live  to- 
morrow, he  should  not,  however,  be  the  same  person  he  is  to-day. 
And  yet,  if  it  be  reasonable  to  act,  with  respect  to  a  future  life,  upon 
this  notion  that  personality  is  transient,  it  is  reasonable  to  act  upon 
it  with  respect  to  the  present.  Here  then  is  a  notion  equally  aojili- 
cable  to  religion  and  to  our  temporal  concerns,  and  every  one  sees 
and  feels  the  inexpressible  absurdity  of  it  in  the  latter  case;  if  there- 
fore any  can  take  up  with  it  in  the  former,  this  cannot  proceed  from 
the  reason  of  the  thing,  but  must  be  owing  to  an  inward  unfairness 
and  secret  corruption  of  heart. 

Secondly,  it  is  not  an  idea,  or  abstract  notion,  or  quality,  but  a 
being  only,  which  is  capable  of  life  and  action,  of  happiness  and 
misery.  Now  all  beings  confessedly  continue  the  same,  during  the 
whole  time  of  their  existepce.  Consider  then  a  living  being  now  ex- 
isting, and  which  has  exis^d  for  any  time  alive;  this  living  being  roust 
have  done  and  suffered  and  enjoyed,  what  it  has  done  and  sufFtred 
and  enjoyed  forojerly,  (this  living  being,  I  say,  and  not  another)  as 
really  as  it  does  and  suffers  and  enjoys,  what  it  does  and  suffers  and 
enjoys  this  instant.  All  these  successive  actions,  enjoyments  and 
sufferings,  are  actions,  enjoyments  and  sufferings  of  the  same  living 
being.  And  they  are  so,  prior  to  all  consideration  of  its  remember- 
ing or  forgetting:  since  remembering  or  forgetting  can  make  no  alter- 
ation in  tiie  truth  of  past  matter  of  fact.  And  suppose  this  being 
endued  with  limited  powers  of  knowledge  and  memory,  there  is  no 
more  difficulty  in  conceiving  it  to  have  a  power  of  knowing  itself  to 
be  tlie  same  living  being  which  it  was  some  time  ago,  of  remember- 
ing some  of  its  actions,  suflVrings  and  enjoyments,  and  forgetting 
others,  than  in  conceiving  it  t'.>  know  or  remember  or  forget  any 
thing  else. 

Thirdly,  every  person  is  conscious  that  he  is  now  the  same  person 
or  self  he  was  as  far  back  as  his  remen»brance  reaches;  since  when 
any  one  reflects  upon  a  past  action  of  his  own,  he  is  just  as  certain 
of  the  person  who  did  that  action,  namely,  himself,  the  person  who 
now  reflects  upon  it,  as  lie  is  certain  that  the  action  was  at  all  do-ie. 
j^ay,  vtr-y  cOeu  a  person.'s  ass^urance  of  an  action  having  been  done, 


Diss.  I.  Personal  Identity.  215 

of  which  he  is  absolutely  assured,  arises  wholly  from  the  conscious- 
ness that  he  himself  did  it.  And  this  he,  person,  or  self,  must  either 
be  a  substance,  or  the  property  of  some  substance.  If  he,  if  per- 
son, be  a  substance,  then  consciousness  that  he  is  the  same  person, 
is  consciousness  that  he  is  the  same  substance.  If  the  person,  or  he, 
be  the  property  of  a  substance,  still  consciousness  that  he  is  the 
same  property  is  as  certain  a  proof  that  his  substance  remains  the 
same,  as  consciousness  that  he  remains  the  same  substance  would  be; 
since  the  same  property  cannot  be  transferred  from  one  substance  to 
another. 

But  though  we  are  thus  certain  that  we  are  the  same  agents,  living 
beings,  or  substances  now,  which  we  were  as  far  back  as  our  remem- 
brance reaches,  yet  it  is  asked  whether  we  may  not  possibly  be  de 
ceived  in  it?  And  this  question  may  be  asked  at  the  end  of  any 
demonstration  whatever;  because  it  is  a  question  concerning  th(^ 
truth  of  perception  by  memory.  And  he  who  can  doubt  whethei 
perception  by  memory  can  in  this  case  be  depended  upon,  may  doubt 
also  whether  perception  by  deduction  and  reasoning,  which  also  in- 
clude memory,  or  indeed  whether  intuitive  perception  can.  Here 
then  we  can  go  no  farther.  For  it  is  ridiculous  to  attempt  to  prove 
the  truth  of  those  perceptions,  whose  truth  we  can  no  otherwise 
prove  than  by  other  perceptions  of  exactly  the  same  kind  with  them, 
and  which  there  is  just  the  same  ground  to  suspect;  or  to  attempt  to 
prove  the  truth  of  our  faculties,  which  can  no  otherwise  be  proved 
than  by  the  use  or  means  of  those  very  suspected  faculties  them- 
selves. 


DISSERTATION  II. 


Of  the  jyature  of  Virtue. 


THAT  which  renders  beings  capable  of  moral  government,  is  their 
having  a  moral  nature  and  moral  faculties  of  perception  and  of  ac- 
tion. Brute  creatures  are  impressed  and  actuated  by  various  in- 
stincts and  propensions;  so  also  are  we.  But  additional  to  this,  we 
have  a  capacity  of  reflecting  upon  actions  and  characters,  and  mak- 
ing them  an  object  to  our  thought;  and  on  doing  this,  we  naturally 
and  unavoidably  approve  some  actions,  under  the  peculiar  view  of 
their  being  virtuous  and  of  good  desert,  and  disapprove  others,  as 
vicious  and  of  ill  desert.  That  we  have  this  moral  approving  and 
disapproving*  faculty,  is  certain  from  our  experiencing  it  in  our- 
selves, and  recognizing  it  in  each  other  It  appears  from  our  exer- 
cising it  unavoidably,  in  the  approbation  and  disapprobation  even  of 
feigned  characters;  from  the  words,  right  and  wrong,  odious  and  ami- 
able, base  and  worthy,  with  many  others  of  like  signification  in  all 
languages,  applied  to  actions  and  characters;  from  the  many  written 
systems  of  morals  which  suppose  it,  since  it  cannot  be  imagined  that 
all  these  authors,  throughout  all  these  treatises,  had  absolutely  no 
meaning  at  all  to  their  words,  or  a  meaning  merely  chimerical;  from 
our  natural  sense  of  gratitude,  which  implies  a  distinction  between 
merely  being  the  instrument  of  good  ana  intending  it:  frcrri  the  like 
distinction  everyone  makes  between  injury  and  mere  harm,  which, 
flbfcfrs  says,  is  peculiar  to  mankind;  and  between  injury  and  just 
punishment,  a  distinction  plainly  natural,  prior  to  the  consideration 
of  human  laws.  It  is  manifest  great  part  of  common  language,  and 
of  common  behaviour  over  the  world,  is  formed  upon  supposition  of 
such  a  moral  faculty,  whether  called  conscience,  moral  reason,  moral 
sense,  or  divine  reason;  whether  considered  as  a  sentiment  of  the 

*  This  way  of  speaking  is  taken  from  Epictetus,  [a]  and  is  made  use  of  as  seeming 
the  most  full,  and  least  liable  to  cavil.  And  the  moral  faculty  may  be  understood  to 
have  these  two  epithets,  ^oiiftaBTm^  and  ccTro^oKif^xo'TiKT)'  ^  upon  a  double  account;, 
because,  upon  a  survey  of  actions,  whether  before  or  after  they  are  done,  it  determines 
them  to  be  good  or  evil;  and  also  because  it  determines  itself  t©  be  the  guide  of  action 
and  of  life,  in  contradistinction  from  all  other  faculties,  or  natural  principles  of  action; 
in  the  very  same  manner  as  speculative  reason  directly  and  naturally  judges  of  specu- 
lative truth  and  falsehood,  and  at  the  same  time  is  attended  with  a  consciousness  upon 
reflection,  that  the  natural  right  to  judge  of  fftem  belongs  to  it, 

[a]  Arr.Epict !.  I.e.  1. 


Diss.  II.  •    Of  the  JS^ature  of  Virtue.  £17 

understanding,  or  as  a  perception  of  the  heart,  or,  which  s»ems  the 
truth,  as  including  both.  Nor  is  at  all  doubtful  in  the  general  what 
course  of  action  this  faculty  or  practical  discerning  power  within  us 
approves,  and  what  it  disapproves.  For,  as  much  as  it  has  been  dis- 
puted wherein  virtue  consists,  or  whatever  ground  for  doubt  there 
may  be  about  particulars — yet,  in  general,  there  is  in  reality  an  uni- 
versally acknowledged  standard  of  it.  It  is  that  which  all  ages  and 
all  countries  have  made  profession  of  in  public;  it  is  that  which  every 
man  you  meet  puts  on  the  show  of;  it  is  that  which  the  primary  and 
fundamental  laws  of  all  civil  constitutions,  over  the  face  of  the 
earth,  make  it  their  business  and  endeavor  to  enforce  the  practice  of 
upon  mankind;  namely,  justice,  veracity,  and  reg.ird  to  common 
good.  It  being  manifest  then,  in  general,  that  we  have  such  a  fac- 
ulty or  discernment  as  this,  it  may  be  of  use  to  remark  some  things 
more  distinctly  concerning  it. 

First,  it  ought  to  be  observed  that  the  object  of  this  faculty  is  ac- 
tions,* comprehending  under  that  name  active  or  practical  princi- 
ples; those  principles  from  which  men  would  act  if  occasions  and 
circumstances  gave  them  power,  and  which,  when  fived  and  habitual 
in  any  person,  we  call  his  character.  It  does  not  appear  that  brutes 
have  the  least  reflex  sense  of  actions  as  distinguis  ed  from  events, 
or  that  will  and  design,  which  constitute  the  very  nature  of  actions, 
as  such,  are  at  all  an  object  of  their  perception.  But  to  ours  they 
are;  and  they  are  the  object,  and  the  only  one,  of  the  approving  and 
disapproving  faculty.  Acting,  conduct,  behaviour,  abstracted  from 
all  regard  to  what  is,  in  fact  and  event,  the  consequence  of  it,  is  it- 
self the  natural  object  of  the  moral  discernment,  as  speculative  truth 
and  falsehood  is  of  speculative  reason.  Intention  of  such  and  such 
consequences,  indeed,  is  always  included,  for  it  is  part  of  the  action 
itself;  but  though  the  intended  good  or  bad  consequences  do  not  fol- 
low, we  have  exactly  the  same  sense  of  the  action  as  if  they  did.  In 
like  manner  we  think  well  or  ill  of  characters,  abstracted  from  all 
consideration  of  the  good  or  the  evil  which  persons  of  such  charac- 
ters have  it  actually  in  their  power  to  do  We  never,  in  the  moral 
way,  applaud  or  blame  either  ourselves  or  others  for  what  we  enjoy 
or  what  we  suffer,  or  for  having  impressions  made  upon  us  which  we 
consider  as  altogether  out  of  our  power;  but  only  for  what  we  do, 
or  would  have  done,  had  it  been  in  our  power,  or  for  what  we  leave 
undone  which  we  might  have  done,  or  would  have  left  undone  though 
we  could  have  done  it. 

Secondly  our  sense  or  discernment  of  actions  as  moral lygood  or 
evil,  implies  in  it  a  sense  or  discernment  of  them  as  of  good  or  ill 
desert.  It  may  be  difficult  to  explain  this  perception,  so  as  to  answer 
all  the  questions  which  may  be  asked  concerning  it;  but  every  one 
speaks  of  such  and  such  actions  as  deserving  punishment,  and  it  is 
not,  I  suppose,  pretended  that  they  have  absolutely  no  meaning  at 
all  to  the  expression.  Now  the  meaning  plainly  is  not,  that  we  con- 
ceive it  for  the  good  of  society  that  the  doer  of  such  actions  should 
be  made  to  suffer.     For  if  unhappily  it  were  resolved  that  a  man, 

*  a'fot  ^  upsri,  Kcti  Kxidot—h  Ttie-fi  k>^  hepye)*.     M.    Auton.  1.  9.   16. 
Virtutis  lau8  omnis  ia  tctione  consistit,    Cic.  Off.  1.  I .  c.  6, 
D  2 


£18  Of  the  J^ature  of  Virtue.  Diss.  II. 

who  by  sotuc  innocent  action  was  infected  with  the  plague,  should  be 
left  to  perish,  lest  by  other  people's  coming  near  him  the  infection 
should  spread— no  one  would  say  he  deserved  this  treatment.  Inno- 
cence and  ill  desert  are  inconsistent  ideas.  Ill  desert  always  sup- 
f)oses  guilt;  and  if  one  be  not  part  of  the  other,  yet  they  are  evident- 
y  and  naturally  connected  in  our  mind.  The  sight  of  a  man  in  mis- 
ery raises  our  compassisn  towards  him;  and  if  this  misery  be  inflict- 
ed on  him  by  another,  our  indignation  against  the  author  of  it.  But 
when  we  are  informed  that  the  suft'erer  is  a  villain,  and  is  punisl>ed 
only  for  his  treachery  or  cruelty,  our  compas-«ion  exceedingly  les- 
sens, and  in  many  instances  our  indignation  wholly  subsides.  Now 
what  produces  this  effect,  is  the  conception  of  that  in  the  sufferer 
which  we  call  ill  desert.  Upon  considering  then,  or  viewing  togeth- 
er, our  notion  of  vice  and  that  of  misery,  there  results  a  third,  that 
of  ill  desert  And  thus  there  is  in  human  creatures  an  association 
of  the  two  ideas,  natural  and  moral  evil,  wickedness' and  punish- 
ment. If  this  association  were  merely  artificial  or  accidental,  it 
were  nothing;  but  being  most  unquestionably  natural,  it  greatly  con- 
cerns us  to  attend  to  it,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  explain  it  away. 

It  may  be  observed  farther,  concerning  our  perception  of  good  and 
of  ill  desert,  that  the  former  is  very  weak  with  respect  to  common  in- 
stances of  virtue;  one  reason  of  which  may  be,  that  it  does  not  appear 
to  a  spectator  how  far  such  instances  of  virtue  proceed  from  a  vir- 
tuous principle,  or  in  what  degree  this  principle  is  prevalent,  since 
a  very  weak  regard  to  virtue  may  be  sufficient  to  make  men  act  well 
in  many  common  instances.  And  on  the  other  hand,  our  perception 
of  ill  desert  in  vicious  actions  lessens,  in  proportion  to  the  tempta^ 
tions  men  are  thought  to  have  had  to  such  vices.  For,  vice  in  hu- 
man creatures  consisting  chiefly  in  the  absence  or  want  of  the  virtu- 
ous principle,  though  a  man  be  overcome,  suppose,  by  tortures,  it 
does  not  from  thence  appear  to  what  degree  the  virtuous  principle 
was  wanting.  All  that  appears  is,  that  he  had  it  not  in  such  a  de- 
gree as  to  prevail  over  the  temptation;  but  possibly  he  had  it  in  a  de- 
gree which  would  have  rendered  him  proof  against  common  tempta- 
tions. 

Xhirdly,  our  perception  of  vice  and  ill  desert  arises  from,  and  is 
the  result  of,  a  comparison  of  actions  with  the  nature  and  capacities 
of  the  agent.  For,  the  mere  neglect  of  doing  what  we  ought  to  do, 
would  in  many  cases  be  determined  by  all  men  to  be  in  the  highest 
degree  vicious.  And  this  determination  must  arise  from  such  com- 
parison, and  be  the  result  of  it,  because  such  neglect  would  not  be 
vicious  in  creatures  of  other  natures  and  capacities,  as  brutes.  And 
it  is  the  same  also  with  respect  to  positive  vices,  or  such  as  consist 
in  doing  what  we  ought  not.  For,  every  one  has  a  difllerent  sense  of 
harm  done  by  an  idiot,  madman,  or  child,  and  by  one  of  mature  and 
common  understanding,  though  the  action  of  both,  including  the  in- 
tention which  is  part  of  the  action,  be  the  same;  as  it  may  be,  since 
idiots  and  madmen,  as  well  as  children,  are  capable  not  only  of  doing 
mischief,  but  also  of  intending  it  Now  this  difference  must  arise 
from  somewhat  discerned  in  the  nature  or  capacities  of  one,  which 
renders  the  action  vicious,  and  the  want  of  which  in  the  other,  ren- 
ders the  eame  action  innocent  or  less  vicious;  and  this  plainly  sup- 


Dibs.  II-  Of  the  Xalure  of  Virtue.  £19, 

poses  a  comparison,  whether  reflected  upon  or  not,  between  the  action 
and  capacities  of  the  agent,  previous  to  our  determining  an  action 
to  be  vicious.  And  hence  arises  a  proper  application  of  the  epithets, 
incongruous,  unsuitable,  disproportionate^  unfit,  to  actions  which  our 
moral  faculty  determines  to  be  vicious^        » 

Fourthly,  it  deserves  to  be  considered  whether  men  are  more  at 
liberty,  in  point  of  morals,  to  make  themselves  miserable  without 
reason,  than  to  make  other  people  so;  or  dissolutely  to  neglect  their 
own  greater  good,  for  the  sake  of  a  present  lesser  gratification,  than 
they  are  to  neglect  the  good  of  others,  whom  nature  has  committed 
to  their  care.  It  should  seem,  that  a  due  concern  about  our  own  in- 
terest or  happiness,  and  a  reasonable  endeavor  to  secure  and  promote 
it,  which  is,  1  think,  very  much  the  meaning  of  the  word  prudence. 
in  our  language— it  should  seem,  that  this  is  virtue,  and  the  contrary 
behavior  faulty  and  blameable;  since,  in  the  calmest  way  of  reflec- 
tion,  we  approve  of  the  first,  and  condemn  the  other  conduct,  both 
in  ourselves  and  others.  This  approbation  and  disapprobation  are 
altogether  different  from  mere  desire  of  our  own,  or  of  their  happi 
ness,  and  from  sorrow  upon  missing  it.  For  the  object  or  occasion 
of  this  last  kind  of  perception  is  satisfaction  or  uneasiness;  where- 
as the  object  of  the  first  is  active  behaviour.  In  one  case,  what  our 
thoughts  fix  upon  is  our  condition;  in  the  other  our  conduct.  It  is 
true  indeed,  that  nature  has  not  given  us  so  sensible  a  disapprobation 
of  imprudence  and  folly,  either  in  ourselves  or  others,  as  of  false- 
hood, injustice  and  cruelty;  1  suppose,  because  that  constant  habitual 
sense  of  private  interest  and  good,  which  we  always  carry  about 
with  us,  renders  such  sensible  disapprobation  less  necessary,  less 
wanting,  to  keep  us  from  imprudently  neglecting  our  own  happiness, 
and  foolishly  injuring  ourselves,  than  it  is  necessary  and  wanting  to 
keep  us  from  injuring  others,  to  whose  good  we  cannot  have  so  strong 
and  constant  a  regard;  and  also  because  imprudence  and  folly,  ap- 

{ tearing  to  bring  its  own  punishment  more  immediately  and  constant- 
y  than  injurious  behaviour,  it  less  needs  the  additional  punishment 
which  would  be  inflicted  upon  it  by  others,  had  they  the  same  sensi- 
ble indignation  against  it  as  against  injustice  and  fraud  and  cruelty. 
Besides,  unhappiness  being  in  itself  the  natural  object  of  compas. 
sion,  the  unhappiness  which  people  bring  upon  themselves,  though  it 
be  wilfully,  excites  in  us  some  pity  for  them;  and  this  of  course  les= 
sens  our  displeasure  against  them.  But  still  it  is  matter  of  experi- 
ence, that  we  are  formed  so  as  to  reflect  very  severely  upon  the 
greater  instances  of  imprudent  neglects  and  foolish  rashness,  both  in 
ourselves  and  others.  In  instances  of  this  kind,  men  often  say 
of  themselves  with  remorse,  and  of  others  with  some  indignation, 
that  they  deserved  to  suffer  such  calamities,  because  they  brought 
them  upon  themselves,  and  would  not  take  warning.  Particularly 
when  persons  come  to  poverty  and  distress  by  a  long  course  of  ex- 
travagance, and  after  frequent  admonitions,  though  without  false- 
hood or  injustice;  we  plainly  do  not  regard  such  people,  as  alike 
objects  of  compassion  with  those  who  are  brought  Into  the  same  con- 
dition by  unavoidable  accidents.  From  these  things  it  appears,  that 
prudence  is  a  species  of  virtue,  and  folly  of  vice;  meaning  by  folly 
somewhat  quite  different  from  mere  incapacity:  a  thoughtless  want 


220  Of  the  Miture  of  Virtue.  Biss.  II. 

of  that  regard  and  attention  to  our  own  happiness  which  we  had  ca- 
pacity for.  And  this  the  world  properly  includes,  and,  as  it  seems, 
in  its  usual  acceptation;  for  we  scarce  apply  it  to  brute  creatures. 

However,  if  any  person  be  disposed  to  dispute  the  matter,  I  shall 
very  willingly  give  him  uf>  the  words  virtue  and  vice,  as  not  applica- 
ble to  prudence  and  folly;  but  must  beg  leave  to  insist,  that  the  fac- 
ulty within  us,  which  is  the  judge  of  actions,  approves  of  prudent 
actions,  and  disapproves  imprudent  ones;  I  say  prudent  and  impru- 
dent actions,  as  such,  and  considered  distinctly  from  the  happiness 
or  misery  which  they  occasion.  And  by  the  way,  this  observation 
may  help  to  determine  what  justness  there  is  in  that  objection  against 
religion,  that  it  teaches  us  to  be  interested  and  selfish. 

Fifthly,  without  inquiring  how  far  and  in  what  sense  virtue  is  re- 
solvable into  benevolence,  and  vice  into  the  want  of  it,  it  may  be 
proper  to  observe,  that  benevolence  and  the  want  of  it,  singly  con- 
sidered, aro  in  no  sort  the  whole  of  virtue  and  vice.  For  if  this 
were  the  case,  in  the  review  of  one's  own  character  or  that  of  others, 
our  moral  understanding  and  moral  sense  would  be  indifferent  to 
every  thing  but  the  degrees  in  which  benevolence  prevailed,  and  the 
degrees  in  which  it  was  wanting.  That  is,  we  should  neither  ap- 
prove of  benevolence  to  some  persons  rather  than  to  others,  nor  dis- 
approve injustice  and  falsehood  upon  any  other  account  than  merely 
as  an  overbalance  of  happiness  was  foreseen  likely  to  be  produced 
by  the  first,  and  of  misery  by  tlie  second.  But  now  on  the  contrary, 
suppose  two  men  competitors  for  any  thing  whatever  which  would  be 
of  equal  advantage  to  each  of  them,  though  nothing  indeed  would 
be  more  impertinent  than  for  a  stranger  to  busy  himself  to  get  one 
of  them  preferred  to  the  other,  yet  such  endeavor  would  be  virtue  in 
behalf  of  a  friend  or  benefactor,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of 
distant  consequences;  as  that  examples  of  gratitude  and  the  cultiva- 
tion of  friendship  would  be  of  general  good  to  the  world.  Again, 
suppose  one  man  should,  by  fraud  or  violence,  take  from  another  the 
fruit  of  his  labor,  with  intent  to  give  it  to  a  third,  who,  he  thought, 
would  have  as  much  pleasure  from  it  as  would  balance  the  pleasure 
which  the  first  possessor  would  have  had  in  the  enjoyment  and  his 
vexation  in  the  loss  of  it;  suppose  also  tiiat  no  bad  consequences 
would  follow:  yet  such  an  action  would  surely  be  vicious.  Nay, 
farther,  were  treachery,  violence  and  injustice  no  otherwise  vicious 
than  as  foreseen  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  misery  to  so- 
ciety, then,  if  in  any  case  a  man  could  procure  to  himself  as  great  ad- 
vantage by  an  act  of  injustice  as  the  whole  foreseen  inconvenience 
likely  to  be  brought  upon  others  by  it  would  amount  to,  such  a  piece 
ofinju&fice  would  not  be  faulty  or  vicious  at  all,  because  it  would 
bft  no  more  than,  in  any  other  rase,  for  a  man  to  prefer  his  own 
satisfaction  to  another's  in  equal  degrees.  The  fact  then  appears  to 
be,  that  we  are  constituted  so  as  to  condemn  falsehood,  unprovoked 
violence,  injustice,  and  to  approve  of  benevolence  to  some  preferably 
to  others,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  which  conduct  is  likely 
to  produce  an  overbalance  of  happiness  or  misery.  And  therefore, 
were  the  Author  of  nature  to  propose  nothing  to  himself  as  an  end 
but  the  production  of  happiness,  were  his  moral  character  merely 
that  of  benevolence,  yet  ours  is  not  so.     Upon  that  supposition  in- 


Diss.  U.  Of  the  J^Tature  of  Virtue.  2£^ 

deed,  the  only  reason  of  his  giving  us  the  above-mentioned  approba- 
tion of  benevolence  to  some  persons  rather  than  others,  and  disap- 
probation of  falsehood,  unprovoked  violence,  and  injustice,  must  be, 
that  he  foresaw  this  constitution  of  our  nature  would  produce  more 
happiness  than  forming  us  with  a  temper  of  more  general  benevo- 
lence. But  still,  since  this  is  pur  constitution,  falsehood,  violence, 
injustice,  must  be  vice  in  us,  and  benevolence  to  some  preferably  to 
others,  virtue,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of  the  overbalance, 
of  evil  or  good  which  they  may  appear  likely  to  produce. 

Now  if  human  creatures  are  endued  with  such  a  moral  nature  as 
we  have  been  explaining,  or  with  a  moral  faculty  the  natural  object 
of  which  is  actions — moral  government  must  consist  in  rendering 
them  happy  and  unhappy,  in  rewarding  and  punishing  them,  as  they 
follow,  neglect,  or  depart  from,  the  moral  rule  of  action  interwoven 
in  their  nature,  or  suggested  and  enforced  by  this  moral  faculty;*  in 
rewarding  and  punishing  them  upon  account  of  their  so  doing. 

I  am  not  sensible  that  I  have,  in  this  fifth  observation,  contradicted 
what  any  author  designed  to  assert.  But  some  of  great  antt  distin- 
guished merit  have,  I  think,  expressed  themselves  in  a  manner  which 
may  occasion  some  danger  to  careless  readers,  of  imagining  the 
whole  of  virtue  to  consist  in  singly  aiming,  according  to  the  best  of 
their  judgment,  at  promoting  the  happiness  of  mankind  in  the  present 
state;  and  the  whole  of  vice,  in  doing  what  they  foresee,  or  might 
foresee,  is  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  unhappiness  in  it; 
than  which  mistakes,  none  can  be  conceived  more  terrible.  For  it 
is  certain  that  some  of  the  most  shocking  instances  of  injustice, 
adultery,  murder,  perjury,  and  even  of  persecution,  may,  in  many 
supposable  cases,  not  have  the  appearance  of  being  likely  to  produce 
an  overbalance  of  misery  in  the  present  state:  perhaps  sometimes 
may  have  the  contrary  appearance.  For  this  reflection  might  easily 
be  carried  on,  but  1  forbear — The  happiness  of  the  world  is  the  con- 
cern of  him,  who  is  the  lord  and  the  proprietor  of  it;  nor  do  we  know 
what  we  are  about,  when  we  endeavor  to  promote  the  good  of  man- 
kind in  any  ways  but  those  which  he  has  directed,  that  is  indeed  in 
all  ways  not  contrary  to  veracity  and  justice.  I  speak  thus  upon 
supposition  of  persons  really  endeavoring,  in  some  sort,  to  do  good 
without  regard  to  these.  But  the  truth  seems  to  be,  that  such  sup- 
posed endeavors  proceed,  almost  always,  from  ambition,  the  spirit 
of  party,  or  some  indirect  principle,  concealed  perhaps  in  great 
measure  from  persons  themselves.  And  though  it  is  our  business 
and  our  duty  to  endeavor,  within  the  bounds  of  veracity  and  justice, 
to  contribute  to  the  ease,  convenience,  and  even  cheerfulness  and 
diversion  of  our  fellow  creatures — yet  from  our  short  views,  it  is 
greatly  uncertain  when  this  endeavor  will,  in  particular  instances, 
produce  an  overbalance  of  happiness  upon  the  whole,  since  so  many 
and  distant  things  must  come  into  the  account.  And  that  which 
makes  it  our  duty,  is,  that  there  is  some  appearance  that  it  will,  and 
no  positive  appearance  sufficient  to  balance  this  on  the  contrary  side; 
and  also  that  such  benevolent  endeavor  is  a  cultivation  of  that  most 
excellent  of  all  virtuous  principles,  the  active  principle  of  benevo- 
lence. ' 

*  Page  104. 


5122  Of  the  J^Tature  of  Virtue.  Dxss.  11. 

However,  though  veracity  as  well  as  justice  is  to  be  our  rule  of 
Hfe,  it  must  be  added,  otherwise  a  snare  will  be  laid  in  the  way  of 
some  plain  men,  that  the  use  of  common  forms  of  speech  generally 
understood,  cannot  be  falsehood,  and,  in  general,  that  there  can  be 
DO  designed  falsehood  without  designing  to  deceive.  It  must  like- 
wise be  observed,  that  in  numberless  cases  a  man  may  be  under  the 
strictest  obligations  to  what  he  foresees  will  deceive,  without  his  in- 
tending it.  For  it  is  impossible  not  to  foresee  that  the  words  and 
actions  of  men  in  different  ranks  and  employments,  and  of  different 
educations,  will  perpetually  be  mistaken  by  each  other;  and  it  can- 
aot  but  be  so  whilst  they  will  judge  with  the  utmost  carelessness,  as 
they  daily  do,  of  what  they  are  not,  perhaps,  enough  informed  to  be 
competent  judges  of,  even  though  they  considered  it  with  great 
attention. 


CHARGE 

DELIVERED  TO 

THE    CLERGY 

AT  THE 
PRIMARY  VISITATION  OF  THE  DIOCESE  OF  DURHAM,  IN  THE  YEAY  1751; 

BY  THE  RIGHT  REVEREND  FATHER  IN  GOD 

JOSEPB BUTLER,  LL.D. 

TUXN  lOBD  BISHOP  OF  THAT  OI0CSSS« 

WITH  NOTES, 

CoDtAining  a  defence  of  the  Churge  against  the  objections  of  an  anonymous  vxitcr* 
BY  THE  EDITOR. 


A 

CHARGE 

DELIVERED  TO 

THE    CLERGY,  &c.* 


IT  is  impossible  for  me,  ray  brethren,  upon  our  first  meeting  of 
this  kind,  to  forbear  lamenting  with  you,  the  general  decay  of  reli- 
gion in  this  nation;  which  is  now  observed  by  every  one,  and  has 
been  for  some  time  the  complaint  of  all  serious  persons.  The  influ- 
ence of  it  is  more  and  more  wearing  out  of  the  minds  of  men,  even 
of  those  who  do  not  pretend  to  enter  into  speculations  upon  the  sub- 
ject; but  the  number  of  those  who  do,  and  who  profess  themselves 
unbelievers,  increases,  and  with  their  numbers  their  zeal.  Zeal,  it  is 
natural  to  ask — for  what?  Why  truly /or  nothing,  but  against  every 
thing  that  is  good  and  sacred  amongst  us. 

Indeed,  whatever  efforts  are  made  against  our  religion,  no  Chris- 
tian can  possibly  despair  of  it.  For  He,  who  has  all  poiaer  in  heaven 
and  earth,  has  promised  that  he  will  he  with  us  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  Nor  can  the  present  cTecline  of  it  be  any  stumbing  block  to 
such  as  are  considerate;  since  he  himself  has  so  strongly  expressed 
what  is  so  remarkably  predicted  in  other  passages  of  Scripture,  the 
great  defection  from  his  religion  which  should  be  in  the  latter  days, 
by  that  prophetic  question,  when  the  Son  of  Man  cometh,  shall  he 
find  faith  upon  the  earth?  How  near  this  time  is,  God  only  knows; 
but  this  kind  of  Scripture  signs  of  it  is  too  apparent.  For  as  differ- 
ent ages  have  t»een  distinguished  by  different  sorts  of  particular  er- 
rors and  vices,  the  deplorable  distinction  of  ours  is  an  avowed  scorn 
of  religion  in  some,  and  a  growing  disregard  to  it  in  the  generality. 

•  The  puhlieation  of  Bishop  Butler's  Chaise,  in  the  year  1751,  was  followed  by  a 
pamphlet,  printed  in  1752,  entitled,  *  A  serious  Inquiry  into  the  Use  and  Importance  of 
External  Religion,  occasioned  by  some  passages  in  the  Right  Reverend  the  Lord  Bish- 
op of  Diu'ham's  Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  that  Diocese,  &c.  humbly  addressed  to  his 
Lordship.'  This  pamphlet  has  been  reprinted  in  a  miscellaneous  work;  such  parts  of 
it  as  seemed  most  worthy  of  observation,  the  reader  will  find  in  the  Notes  3(^bjoined  to 
thoae  passages  of  the  Charge,  to  which  the  pamphlet  refers. 
E  2 


•i!26  Charge  to  the 

As  to  the  proFessed  enemies  of  religion,  1  know  not  how  often 
they  may  come  in  your  way;  but  often  enough,  I  fear,  in  the  way  of 
some  at  least  amongst  you,  to  require  consideration  what  is  the 
proper  behaviour  towards  them.  One  would,  to  be  sure,  av(»id  great 
familiarities  with  these  persons;  especially  if  they  affect  to  be  licen- 
tious and  profane  in  their  common  talk.  Yet  if  you  fall  into  their 
company,  treat  them  with  the  regards  which  belong  to  their  rank:  for 
so  we  must  people  who  are  vicious  in  any  other  respect.  We  should 
study  what  St.  James,  with  wonderful  elegance  and  expressiveness, 
calls  meekness  of  wisdom,  in  onr  behaviour  towards  all  men,  but 
more  especially  towards  these  nu-n;  not  so  much  as  being  what  we 
owe  to  them,  but  to  ourselves  an»l  our  religion,  that  we  may  adorn 
the  doctrine  of  God  our  Saviour,  in  our  carriage  towards  thode  who 
labor  to  vilify  it. 

For  discourse  with  them,  the  caution  commonly  given,  not  to  at- 
tempt answering  objections  which  we  have  not  considered,  is  cer- 
tainly just  Nor  need  any  one  in  a  particular  case  be  ashamed 
frankly  to  acknowledge  his  ignorance,  provided  it  be  not  general. 
And  though  it  were,  to  talk  of  what  he  is  not  acquainted  with,  is  a 
dangerous  method  of  endeavoring  to  conceal  it.  But  a  considerate 
person,  however  qualified  he  be  to  defend  his  religion,  and  answer 
the  objections  he  hears  made  against  it,  may  sometimes  see  cause  to 
decline  that  office.  Sceptical  and  profane  men  are  extremely  apt  to 
bring  up  this  subject  at  meetings  of  entertainment,  and  such  as  are 
of  the  freer  sort;  innocent  ones.  I  mean,  otherwise  I  should  not  sup- 
pose you  would  be  present  at  them.  Now  religion  is  by  far  too  seri- 
ous a  matter  to  be  the  hackney  subject  upon  these  occasions.  And 
by  preventing  its  being  made  so,  you  will  better  secure  the  reverence 
which  is  due  to  it,  tiian  by  entering  into  its  defence.  Every  one  ob- 
serves, that  men's  having  examples  of  vice  often  before  their  eyes, 
familiarizes  it  to  the  mind,  and  has  a  tendency  to  take  off  that  just 
abhorrence  of  it  which  the  innocent  at  first  felt,  even  though  it  should 
not  alter  ihe'ir  Juds^ment  of  vice,  or  make  them  really  believe  it  to  be 
less  evil  or  dangerous.  In  like  mannei',  the  hearing  religion  often 
disputed  about  in  light  familiar  conversation,  has  a  tendency  to  les- 
sen that  sacred  regard  to  it,  which  a  good  man  would  endeavor  al- 
ways to  keep  up.  both  in  himself  and  others.  But  this  is  not  all; 
people  are  too  apt  inconsiderately  to  take  for  grantefl  that  things  are 
really  questionable,  because  they  hear  them  often  disputed.  This 
indeed  is  so  far  from  being  a  consequence,  that  we  know  demonstra- 
ted truths  have  been  disputed,  and  even  matters  of  fact,  the  objects 
of  our  senses.  But  were  it  a  consequence,  were  the  evidence  of 
religion  no  more  than  doubtful,  then  it  ought  not  to  be  concluded  false 
any  more  than  true,  nor  denied  any  more  than  affirmed:  for  suspense 
would  be  the  reasonable  state  of  mind  with  regard  to  it.  And  then 
it  ought  iq,  all  reason,  considering  its  infinite  importance,  to  have 
nearly  the  same  influence  upon  practice,  as  if  it  were  thoroughly  be- 
lieved. For  would  it  not  be  madness  for  a  man  to  forsake  a  sa'' 
road,  and  prefer  to  it  one  in  which  he  acknowledges  there  is  an  ever 
chance  he  should  lose  his  life,  though  there  were  an  even  chance  I'ike 
wise  of  his  getting  safe  through  it?  Yet  there  are  people  absur* 
e(U)ugh  to  take  the  supposed  doubtfulness  of  religion  for  the  sam> 


Clergy  of  Durham^  1751.  22' 

th'mg  as  a  proof  of  its  falsehood,  after  they  have  concluded  it  doubt- 
ful from  hearing  it  often  called  in  question.  This  shews  how  infi- 
nitely unreasonable  sceptical  men  are,  with  regard  to  religion,  and 
that  they  really  lay  aside  their  reason  upon  this  subject  as  much  as 
the  most  extravagant  enthusiasts.  But  further,  cavilling  and  object- 
ing upon  any  subject  is  much  easier  than  clearing  up  difficulties;  and 
this  last  part  will  always  be  put  upon  the  defenders  of  religton. 
Now  a  man  may  be  fully  convinced  of  the  truth  of  a  matter,  and 
upon  the  strongest  reasons,  and  yet  not  be  able  to  answer  all  the  dif- 
ficulties which  may  be  raised  upon  it. 

I'hen  again,  the  general  evi<lence  of  religion  is  complex  and  vari- 
ous. It  consists  of  a  long  series  of  things,  one  preparatory  to  and 
confirming  another,  from  the  very  beginning  of  the  world  to  the  pres- 
ent time.  And  it  is  easy  to  see  how  impossible  it  must  be,  in  a  cur- 
sury  conversation,  to  unite  all  this  into  one  argument,  and  represent 
it  as  it  ought;  and  could  it  be  done,  how  utterly  indisposed  people 
wouUI  be  to  attend  to  it — I  say  in  a  cursory  conversation:  whereas 
uiuonnected  objections  are  thrown  out  in  a  few  words,  and  are  easily 
apprehended,  without  more  attention  than  is  usual  in  common  talk. 
So  that,  notwithstanding  we  have  the  best  cause  in  the  world,  and 
though  a  man  were  very  capable  of  defending  it,  yet  I  knov/  not  why 
he  should  be  forward  to  undertake  it  upon  so  great  a  disadvantage, 
and  to  so  little  good  effect,  as  it  must  be  done  amidst  the  gaiety  ;;a(i 
carelessness  of  common  conversation. 

But  then  it  will  be  necessary  to  be  very  particularly  upon  your 
guard,  that  you  may  not  seem,  by  way  of  compliance,  to  join  in  with 
any  levity  of  discourse  respecting  religion.  Nor  would  one  let  any 
pretended  argument  against  it  pass  entirely  without  notice;  nor  any 
gross  ribaldry  upon  it,  without  expressing  our  thorough  disapproba- 
tion. This  last  may  sometimes  be  done  by  silence;  for  silence  some- 
times is  very  expressive;  as  was  that  of  our  blessed  Saviour  before 
the  Sanhedrim,  and  before  Pilate.  Or  it  may  be  done  by  observing 
mildly,  that  religion  deserves  another  sort  of  treatment,  or  a  more 
thorough  consideration  than  such  a  time,  or  such  circumstances  ad- 
mit. However,  as  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  we  take  care,  by- 
diligent  reading  and  study,  to  be  always  prepared,  to  be  readij  al- 
ways to  give  an  answer  to  every  man  that  asketh  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  us — so  there  may  be  occasions  when  it  will  highly  become 
us  to  do  it.  And  then  we  m.ust  take  care  to  do  it  in  the  spirit  which 
the  apostle  requires,  tvith  meekness  and  fear:*  meekness  towards 
those  who  give  occasions  for  entering  into  the  defence  of  our  reli- 
gion; and  with /gar,  not  of  them,  but  of  God;  with  that  reverential 
fear  which  the  nature  of  religion  requires,  and  which  is  so  far  from 
being  inconsistent  with,  that  it  will  inspire  proper  courage  towarda 
men.  Now  this  reverenti.lj  fear  will  lead  us  to  insist  strongly  U[)()n 
the  infinite  greatness  of  God's  scheme  of  government,  both  in  extent 
and  duration,  together  with  the  wise  connexion  of  its  parts,  aiid  tlie 
injpopsibility  of  accounting  fully  for  the  several  parts,  without  seeing 
the  whole  plan  of  Providence  to  which  they  relate;  which  is  beyond 
the  utmost  stretch  of  our  understanding.     And  to  all  this  must  be 

*I  Peter,  iii,  15. 


228  Charge  to  the 

added  the  necessary  deficiency  of  human  language,  when  things  di- 
vine are  the  subject  of  it.  These  ohservations  are  a  proper  full  an- 
swer to  many  objections,  and  very  material  with  regard  to  all. 

But  your  standing  business,  and  which  requires  constant  attention* 
is  with  the  body  of  the  people;  to  revive  in  them  the  spirit  of  reli- 
gion which  is  so  much  declioing.  And  it  may  seem,  that  whatever 
reason  there  be  for  caution  as  to  entering  into  any  argumentative 
defence  of  religion  in  common  conversation,  yet  that  it  is  necessary 
to  do  this  from  the  pulpit,  in  order  to  guard  the  people  against  being 
corrupted,  however  in  some  places.  But  then  surely  it  should  be 
done  in  a  manner  as  little  controversial  as  possible.  For  tliough 
such  as  are  capable  of  seeing  the  force  of  objections  are  capable  also 
of  seeing  the  force  of  the  answers  which  are  given  to  them,  yet  the 
truth  is,  the  people  will  not  competently  attend  to  either  But  it  is 
easy  to  see  which  they  will  attend  to  most.  And  to  hear  religion 
treated  of,  as  what  many  deny,  and  which  has  much  said  against  it 
as  well  as  for  it,  this  cannot  but  have  a  tendency  to  give  them  ill  im- 
pressions at  any  time;  and  seems  particularly  improper  for  all  per- 
sons at  a  time  of  devotion,  even  for  such  as  are  arrived  at  the  most 
settled  state  of  piety: — I  say  at  a  time  of  devotion,  when  we  are 
assembled  to  yield  ourselves  up  to  the  full  influence  of  the  Divine 
Presence,  and  to  call  forth  into  actual  exercise  every  pious  affection 
of  heart.  For  it  is  to  be  repeated,  that  the  heart  and  course  of  affec- 
tions may  be  disturbed  when  there  is  no  alteration  of  judgment. 
Now  the  evidence  of  religion  may  b©  laid  before  men  without  any 
air  of  controversy.  The  proof  of  the  being  of  God,  from  final  cau- 
ses, or  the  design  and  wisdom  which  appears  in  every  part  of  nature, 
together  with  the  law  of  virtue  written  upon  our  hearts;*  the  proof 

*  The  law  of  virtue  written  upon  our  hearts.]  The  author  of  the 
Inquiry,  mentioned  above,  informs  us  in  his  Postscript,  that  "  the 
certain  consequence  of  referring  mankind  to  a  laiv  of  nature  or  vir- 
tue written  upon  their  hearts  is  their  having  recourse  to  their  own 
^nse  of  things  on  all  occasions;  which  being,  in  a  great  majority,, 
no  better  than  family  superstition,  party  prejudice,  or  self  interested 
artifice,  (perhaps  n  compound  of  all)  will  be  too  apt  to  overrule  the 
plain  precepts  of  the  Gospel.''  And  he  declares  he  has  "  no  better 
opinion  of  the  clearness^ certainty  uniformity,  universality,  &c.  of 
this  law,  than"  he  has  '*  of  the  "importance  of  extetiial  religion.''^ 
"What  then  must  we  say  to  St.  Paul,  who  not  only  asserts,  in  the 
■strongest  terms,  the  reality  of  such  a  law,  but  speaks  of  its  obliga- 
tion as  extending  to  all  inatikind;  blaming  some  among  the  Gentiles 
as  without  excuse,  for  not  adverting  to  and  obeying  it:  and  com- 
mending others  for  doing  hv  nature  (in  contradiction  to  revelation; 
the  thinjrs  contained  in  the  law,  thus  shewing  the  work  of  the  law 
written  in  their  heart-.  If,  because  "  natural  religion  is  liable  to  be 
mistaken,  it  is  high  time  to  have  done  with  it  in  the  pulpit,"  liow 
comes  it  that  the  same  apostle  refers  the  Pliillippians  to  the  study  of 
;his  religion,  to  whatsoever  things  are  true,  hi)ner.t,just,  lovely  and  pf 
good  report?  And  yet  without  such  a  study  or  knowledge  of  the 
moral  law  must  always  remain  imperfect:  for  a  complete  system  of 
morality  is  certainly  no  where  to  be  found  either  in  the  Old  or  New 


Clergy  of  Durham^  1751.  £29 

of  Christianity  from  miracles,  and  the  accomplishment  of  prophe- 
cies; and  the  confirmation  which  the  natural  and  civil  history  of  the 
world  give  to  the  scripture  account  of  things; — these  evidences  of 
religion  might  properly  be  insisted  on  in  a  way  to  affect  and  influence 
the  heart,  though  there  were  no  professed  unbelievers  in  the  world; 
and  therefore  may  be  insisted  on  without  taking  much  notice  that 
there  are  such.  And  even  their  particular  objections  may  be  obvi- 
ated  without  a  formal  mention  of  them.  Besides,  as  to  religion  in 
general,  it  is  a  practical  thing,  and  no  otherwise  a  matter  of  specu- 
lation, than  common  prudence  in  the  management  of  our  worldly 
affairs  is  so.  And  if  one  were  endeavoring  to  bring  a  plain  man  to 
be  more  careful  with  regard  to  this  last,  it  would  be  thought  a  strange 
method  of  doing  it,  to  perplex  him  with  stating  formally  the  several 
objections  which  men  of  gaiety  or  speculation  have  made  against 
prudence,  and  the  advantages  which  they  pleasantly  tell  us  folly  has 
over  it,  though  one  could  answer  those  objections  ever  so  fully. 

Testament  fa]     When  a  christian  minister  is  enforcing  the  duties  or 
doctrines  of  revealed  religion,  he  may  perhaps  do  well  to  '•  tell  his 
people  he  has  no  other  proof  of  the  original,  truth,  obligations,  pres- 
ent benefits  and  future  rewards  of  religion  to  lay  before  them,  than 
what  is  contained  in  the  Scriptures."     But  what  if  his  purpose  be  to 
inculcate  some  moral  virtue.*^  Will  it  not  be  useful  here,  besides  ob- 
serving that  the  practice  of  that  virtue  is  enjoined  by  a  divine  com- 
TOand,  to  recommend  it  still  further  to  his  hearers,  by  shewing  that 
it  approves  itself  to  our  inward  sense  and  perception,  and  accords 
with  the  native  sentiments  and  suggestions  of  our  minds?     Meta- 
physicians may  say  what  they  will  of  our  feeliugs  of  this  sort  being 
all  illusive,  liable  to  be  perverted  by  education  and  habit,  and  judged 
of  by  men's  own  sense  of  things;  they  whose  understandings  are  yet 
unspoiled  by  philosophy  and  vain  deceit  will  be  little  disposed  to  listen 
to  such  assertions.     Nor  are  there  wanting  arguments  which  prove, 
and,  as  should  seem,  to  the  satisfaction  of  every  reasonable  inquirer, 
that  the  great  and  leading  principles  of  moral  duties  have  in  all  ages 
been  the  same;  that  such  virtues  as  benevolence,  justice,   compas- 
sion, gratitude,  accidental  obstacles  removed,  and  when  the  precise 
meaning  of  the  words   has  been   once  explained,  are  instinctively 
known  and  approved  by  all  men;  and  that  our  approbation  of  these 
is  as  much  a  part  of  our  nature  implanted  in  us  by  God,  and  as  little 
liable  to  caprice  and  fashion,  as  the  sense  of  seeing,  given  us  also  by 
Him,  by  which  all  bodies  appear  to  us  in  an  erect,  and  not  an  invert- 
ed position. [b]     Mr,  Locke's  authority  has  been  generally  looked  up 
to  as  decisive  on  such  questions,  and  his  sentiuieiits  have  been  em- 
braced implicitly  and   without  examination.     Tliivt  great  and  good 
man,  however,  is  not  to  be  charged  with  the  pernicious  consequences 
which  others  have   drawn  from  his  opinions;  consequences  which 
have  been  carried  to  such  a  length,  as  to  destroy  all  moral  difference 
of  human  actions;  making  virtue  and  vice  altogether  arbitrary;  call- 
ing evil  good.,  and  good  evil;  putting  darkness  for  light,  and  light 
^nr  (hirkness;  putting  bitter  for  siveei,  and  sweet  for  bitter. 


'>]  ^ 


a]  See  the  second  of  Dr  Balgiiv's  Charges, 
"oe  the  thii"i  of  Bishop  Kurd's  Scrniojis,  Vol.  !• 


230  Charge  to  the 

Nor  does  the  want  of  religion  in  the  generality  of  the  common 
people,  appear  owing  to  a  speculative  disbelief  or  denial  of  it,  but 
chiefly  to  thoughtlessness  and  the  common  temptations  of  life. 
Your  chief  business,  therefore,  is  to  endeavor  to  beget  a  practical 
sense  of  it  upon  their  hearts,  as  what  they  acknowledge  their  belief 
of,  and  profess  they  ought  to  conform  themselves  to.  And  this  is  to 
be  done  by  keeping  up,  as  well  as  we  are  able,  the  form  and  face  ol* 
religion  with  decency  and  reverence,  and  in  such  a  degree  as  to 
bring  the  thoughts  of  religion  often  to  their  minds;*  and  then  en- 
deavoring to  make  this  form  more  and  more  subservient  to  promote 
the  reality  and  power  of  it.  The  form  of  religion  may  indeed  be 
where  there  is  little  of  the  thing  itself;  but  the  thing  itself  cannot  be 
preserved  amongst  mankind  without  the  form  t     And  this  form  fre- 

*  By  keeping  up  the  form  and  face  of  religion  in  such  a  degree  as 
to  bring  the  thoughts  of  religion  often  to  their  minds  ]  To  this  it  is 
said  by  our  Inquirer,  that  "the  Clergy  of  the  Church  of  England 
}jave  no  wav  ot  keeping  up  the /orm  and /«ce  of  religion  any  oftener, 
or  in  any  other  degree,  than  is  directed  by  the  prescribed  order  of  the 
Church."  As  if  the  whole  duty  of  a  parish  priest  consisted  in  read- 
ing prayers  and  a  sermon  on  Sundays,  and  performing  the  occasional 
offices  appointed  in  the  liturgy!  One  would  think  the  writer  who 
made  this  objection  had  never  read  more  of  the  Charge  than  the  four 
pages  he  has  particularly  selected  for  the  subject  of  his  animadver- 
sions. Had  he  looked  farther,  he  would  have  found  other  methi>ds 
recommended  to  the  Clergy  of  introducing  a  sense  of  religion  into 
the  minds  of  their  parishioners,  which  occur  much  oftener  than  the 
times  alloted  for  the  public  services  of  the  Church;  such  as  family- 
prayers;  acknowledging  the  divine  bounty  at  our  meals:  personal 
applications  from  ministers  of  parishes  to  individuals  under  their 
care,  on  particular  occasions  and  circumstances,  as  at  the  time  of 
confirmation,  at  first  receiving  the  holy  communion  on  recovery 
from  sickness,  and  the  like;  none  of  which  are  prescribed  in  our 
established  ritual,  any  more  than  those  others  so  ludicrously  men- 
tioned by  this  writer,  "  bowing  to  the  east,  turning  the  face  to  that 
quarter  in  repeating  the  creeds,  dipping  the  finger  in  water,  and 
therewith  crossing  the  child's  forehead  in  baptism." 

fThe  tliirjg  itself  cannot  be  preserved  amongst  mankind  tvithout 
the  form]  The  Quakers  reject  all  forms,  even  the  two  of  Christ's 
own  institution;  will  it  he  said  that  "these  men  have  no  religion 
preserved  amony;  them?"  It  will  neither  be  said  nor  insinuate*!.  The 
Quakers,  though  they  have  not  the/or?n,  arc  careful  to  keep  up  the 
yace  of  religion;  as  appears  not  otily  from  the  custom  of  assembling 
tlremselves  for  the  pusposcs  of  public  worship  on  the  Lord's  day,  but 
from  their  silent  meetings  on  other  days  of  the  week.  And  that 
they  are  equally  sensible  of  the  importa'ice  of  maintaining  the  influ- 
ence of  religion  on  their  minds,  is  manifefit  from  the  practice  of  what 
they  call  inward  prayer,  in  conlormity  to  the  direction  of  Scripture 
io  pray  continuaUv:  '•^  Which, '^  QiiitU  Robert  Barclay,  "cannot  be 
unilerstood  o(  outicard  prayer,  because  it  were  impossible  that  men 
should  be  always  upon  their  Ivnees,  expressing  the  icords  of  prayer, 
which  would  liinucr  tiiem  from  the  exerci-^e  of  those  duties  no  loss  posi- 
tively corr'fr)»n<lo<!."  Jpo'ogtiforf.he  Qiwl.er^:  Prop.  ii.  Of  M^orshi^. 


Clergy  of  Durham f  1751.  231 

quently  occurring  in  some  instance  or  other  of  it,  will  be  a  frequent 
admonition*  to  bad  men  to  repent,  and  to  good  men  to  grow  better: 
and  also  be  the  means  of  their  doing  so. 

That  which  men  have  accounted  religion  in  the  several  countries 
of  the  world,  generally  speaking,  has  had  a  great  and  conspicuous 
part  in  all  public  appearances,  and  the  face  of  it  been  kept  up  with 
great  reverence  throughout  all  ranks  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest; 
not  only  upon  occasional  solemnities,  but  also  in  the  daily  course  of 
behaviour.  In  the  heathen  world,  their  superstition  was  the  chief 
subject  of  statuary,  sculpture,  painting  and  poetry.  It  mixed  itself 
with  business,  civil  forms,  diversions,  domestic  entertainments,  and 
every  part  of  common  life.  The  Mahometans  are  obliged  to  shoVt 
devotions  five  times  between  morning  and  evening.  In  Roman  Cath- 
olic countries,  people  cannot  pass  a  day  without  having  religion 
recalled  to  their  thoughts,  by  some  or  other  memorial  of  it,  by  some 
ceremony  or  public  religious  form  occuring  in  their  way;t  besides 

*  Thh  form  frequently  occxxnng  \n  some  instance  or  other  of  it. 
will  be  a  frequent  admonition,  &c,]  Here  it  has  been  objected,  that 
"  the  number,  variety,  and  frequent  occurrence  of  forms  in  religion 
are  apt  to  be  considered  by  the  generality  as  commutations  for  their 
vices,  as  something  substituted  in  lieu  of  repentance,  and  as  loads 
and  incumbrances  upon  true  Christian  edification."  This  way  of 
arguing  against  the  use  of  a  thing  from  the  abuse  of  it,  instead  of 
arguing  from  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself,  is  the  master  sophism  that 
pervades  the  whole  performance  we  are  here  examining.  What  rea- 
sonable man  ever  denied  that  the  pomp  of  outward  worship  has  been 
sometimes  mistaken  for  inward  piety.^  That  positive  institutions 
v.'hen  rested  in  as  ends,  instead  of  being  applied  as  means,  are  hurt- 
ful to  the  interests  of  true  religion.^  Not  liishop  Butler  certainly, 
who  blames  the  observances  of  the  papists  on  this  account;  some  of 
them  as  being  "in  themseves  wrong  and  superstitious;"  and  others, 
as  being  "  made  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  superstition,"  and  for 
this  reason  "  abolished  by  our  reformers."  In  the  meanwhile  it  will 
still  be  true,  that  bodily  worship  is  by  no  means  to  be  discarded,  as 
unuseful  in  exciting  spiritual  devotion;  on  the  contrary,  that  thej 
mutually  assist  and  strengthen  each  other;  and  that  a  mere  mental 
intercourse  with  God,  and  a  religious  service  purely  intellectual,  is 
altogether  unsuitable  to  such  a  creature  as  man,  during  his  present 
state  on  earth. 

t  In  Roman  Catholic  countries,  people  cannot  pass  a  day  without 
having  religion  recalled  to  their  thoughts,  by  some  ceremony  or  pub- 
lic religious  form  occurring  in  their  way.]  "  What  in  the  former 
period"  (when  speaking  of  the  heathen  world)  was  "called  super- 
stition, becomes  in  this"  (when  speaking  of  Roman  Catholie)  "  reli- 
gion and  religious  forms;  which  the  papists  pretending  to  connect 
with  Christianity,  and  the  Charge  giving  no  hint  that  this  is  no  more 
than  a  pretence,  a  plain  reader  must  needs  take  this  as  spoken  of  the 
means  and  memorials  of  frz/e  religion,  and  will  accordingly  consider 
these  as  recommended  to  his  practice  and  imitation."  if  a  plain 
reader,  at  first  view  of  the  passage  alluded  to,  should  inadvertently 
fall  into  such  a  mistake,  he  would  find  that  mistake  immediately  cor- 


2Sg  Charge  to  tJis 

their  frequent  holidays,  the  short  prayers  they  are  daily  called  to,' 
and  the  occasional  devotions  enjoined  by  confessors.  By  these 
means  their  superstition  sinks  deep  into  the  minds  of  the  people,  and 
their  religion  also  into  the  minds  of  such  among  them  as  are  serious 
and  well  disposed.  Our  reformers,  considering  that  some  of  these 
observances  were  in  themselves  wrong  and  superstitious,  and  others 
of  them  made  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  superstition;  abolished 
them,  reduced  the  form  of  religion  to  great  simplicity,  and  enjoined 
no  more  particular  rules,  nor  left  any  thing  more  of  what  was  exter- 
nal in  religion  than  wa"?,  in  a  manner,  necessary  to  preserve  a  sense 
of  religion  itself  upon  the  minds  of  the  people.  But  a  great  part  of 
this  is  neglected  by  the  generality  amongst  us;  for  instance,  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Church,  not  only  upon  common  days,  but  ai-so  upon  saints' 
days;  and  several  other  things  might  be  mentioneii.  Thus  they 
have  no  customary  admonition,  no  public  call  to  recollect  the 
thoughts  of  Goo  and  Religiox  from  one  Sunday  to  anotlier. 

It  was  far  otherwise  under  the  Law.  These  ivords,  says  Moses  to 
the  children  of  Isuael,  which  I  command  thee^  shaLl  be  in  thine  heart; 
and  thou  shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy  children,  and  shalt  talk 
of  them  when  thou  sittest  in  tJiine  house,  and  when  thou  walkest  by 
the  way,  and  when  thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou  risest  upf    And 

rected  by  the  very  nest  sentence  that  follows,  where  the  religion  of 
the  Roman  Catholics  and  their  superstition  are  distinguished  from 
each  other  in  express  words.  But  the  terms  in  question  are  used 
with  the  strictest  propriety.  The  design  of  the  Bishop,  in  this  part 
of  his  Charge,  is  to  consider  religion,  not  under  the  notion  of  its 
being  true,  but  as  it  affects  the  senses  and  imaginations  of  the  mul- 
titude. For  so  the  paragraph  begins.  "  That  which  men  have  ac- 
counted religion  in  the  several  countries  of  the  world,"'  (whether 
the  religion  be  true  or  false  is  beside  his  present  argument)  "gen- 
erally speaking,  has  a  great  an<l  conspicuous  part  in  all  public  ap- 
pearances." This  position  he  illustrates  by  tliree  examples,  the 
Heathen,  the  Mahometan,  and  the  Roman  Catholic  religions.  The 
two  first  of  these,  having  little  or  nothing  of  true  religion  belonging 
to  them,  may  well  enough  be  characterized  under  the  common  name 
of  superstition;  the  last  contains  a  mixture  of  both;  which  therefore 
the  Bishop,  like  a  good  writer  as  well  as  a  just  reasoner,  is  careful 
to  distinguish.  In  Roman  Catholic  countries  a  man  can  hardly 
travel  a  mile  without  passing  a  crucifix  erected  on\he  road  side;  he 
may  either  stop  to  worship  the  image  represented  on  the  cross,  or  he 
may  simply  be  reminded  by  it  of  his  own  relation  to  Christ  crucified; 
thus  by  one  and  the  same  outward  sign  "  religion  may  be  recalled  to 
his  thoughts,"  or  superstition  n>ay  take  possession  of  his  mind.  In 
the  celebration  of  the  eucharist,  the  elements  of  bread  and  wine  are 
regarded  by  a  papist  as  the  very  body  and  blood  of  Christ^-to  a  pro- 
testant  they  appear  only  as  symbols  and  memorials  of  that  body  and 
blood;  what  in  one  is  an  act  of  rational  devotion,  becomes  in  the 
other  an  instance  of  the  grossest  superstition,  if  not  idolatry. 

t«3nrf  when  thou  risest  up.']  Allowing  that  "  what  Moses  in  this 
pasfiige  wanted  to  have  effected  was  obedience  to  the  moral  law," 
nothing  sure  could  be  of  greater  use  in  securing  that  obedience  than 


Clergy  of  Durham,  17 5\.^    "~^     "  «?fi?^    233 

as  they  were  commanded  this;  so  it  is  obvious  how  much  the  consti- 
tution of  that  law  was  adapted  to  effect  it,  and  keep  religion  ever  ia 
view.  And  without  somewhat  of  this  nature,  piety  will  grow  lan- 
guid even  among  the  better  sort  of  men;  and  the  worst  will  go  on 
quietly  in  an  abandoned  course,  with  fewer  interruptions  from  within 
than  they  would  have,  were  religious  reflections  forced  oftener  upon 
their  minds,*  and  consequently  with  less  probability  of  their  amend- 

the  practice  here  enjoined.     Our  Inquirer  however  is  of  a  different 
opinion;  and  "  very  much  questions  whether  his  Lordship  could  have 
fallen  upon  any  passage  in  the  Old  Testament,  v/hich  relates  at  all 
to  his  subject,  that  would  have  been  less  favorable  to  his  argument." 
Who  shall  decide?  &c. — The  Bishop  goes  on,  "  As  they  (the  Jews) 
were  commanded  this,  so  it  is  obvious  how  much  the  constitution  of 
their  law  was  adapted  to  effect  it,  and  keep  religion  ever  in  view." 
Upon  which  the  Inquirer  remarks,  "  It  was  then  very  ill,  or  at  least 
very  unwisely  done,  to  abrogate  that  law,  whose  constitution  was 
adapted  to  so  excellent  a  purpose."     Let  us  first  see   what  may  be 
offered  in  defence  of  the  liishop,  and  then  consider  what  is  to  be 
said  in  answer  to  his  opponent.     The  purpose  for  which  the  Mosaic 
constitution  was  established  was  this,  to  preserve,  amidst  a  world 
universally  addicted  to  polytheism  and  idolatry,  the  great  doctrine 
of  the  Unity  of  the  Divine  Nature,  till  the  seed  should  come  to  whom 
the  promise  was  made.     As  a  means  to  this  end,  the  Israelites  were 
not  only  to  be  kept  separate  from  every  other  nation,  but,  the  better 
to  ensure  such  separation,  they  were  to  be  constantly  employed  in  a 
multifarious  ritual,  which  left  them  neither  time  nor  opportunity  for 
deviating  into  the  superstitious  observances  of  their  pagan  neighbors. 
And  this,  I  suppose,  may  suffice  for  vindicating  the  Bishop's  asser- 
tion, that  "  the  constitution  of  the  Jewish  law  was  adapted  to  keep 
religion  ever  in  view."    But  the  Jewish  law  was  not  only  adapted 
to  this  end;  we  are  next  to  observe  that  the  end  itself  was  actually 
gained.     For  though  it  be  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that  the  Jews 
did  not  always  confine  their  religious  homage  to  the  God  of  Israel, 
but  polluted  the  service,  due  to  Him  alone,  with  foreign  worship — 
yet,  even  in  their  worst  defections,  it  should  be  remembered,  they 
never  totally  rejected  the  true  Jehovah;  and  after  their  return  from 
captivity,  they  were  so  thoroughly  cured  of  all  remaining  propensity 
to  the  idolatrous  rites  of  heathenism,  as  never  again  to  violate  their 
allegiance  to  the  God  of  their  fathers.     It  appears  then  that,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  Jewish  separation,  the  principle  of  the  Unity  was  ia 
fact  preserved  inviolate  among  that  people  till  the  coming  of  Christ, 
When  the  Mosaic  constitution  had  thus  attained  its  end,  and  man- 
kind were  now  prepared  for  the  reception  of  a  better  covenant,  the 
law  expired  of  course;  the  partition  wall  that  had  divided  the  Jew 
from  the  Gentile  was  taken  down,  and  all  distinction  between  them 
lost  under  the  common  name  of  Christians.     And  this  may  suffice  to 
shew,  in  opposition  to  our  Inquirer,  that  it  was  both  very  well  and 
very  wisely  done  to  abrogate  s  law,  v/hen  the  purpose  for  which  the 
law  had  been  enacted  was  accomplished. 

•Were  religious  cefiections  forced  oftener  upon  their  minds.} 
**  According  to  the  Bishop's  doctrine,  then,"  savs  the Inquire^i  "it' 


£34  Charge  to  the 

nient.  Indeed  in  mo«t  ages  of  the  church,  the  care  of  reasonable 
men  has  been,  as  there  has  been  for  the  most  part  occasion,  to  draw 
the  people  off  from  laying  too  great  weight  upon  external  things; 
upon  formal  acts  of  piety.  But  the  state  of  matters  is  quite  changed 
now  v.ith  us.  These  things  are  neglected  to  a  degree  which  is,  and 
cannot  but  be,  attended  with  a  decay  of  all  that  is  good.  It  is  highly 
seasonable  now  to  instruct  the  people  in  the  importance  of  external 
religion.* 

And  doubtless  under  this  head  must  come  into  consideration  a 
proper  regard  to  the  structures  which  are  consecrated  to  the  service 
of  God.  In  the  present  turn  of  the  age,  one  may  observe  a  wonder- 
ful frugality  in  every  thing  which  has  respect  to  religion,  and  extrav- 
agance in  every  thing  else.  But  amidst  the  appearances  of  opulence 
and  improvement  in  all  common  things,  which  are  now  seen  in  moat 
places,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a  reason  why  these  monuments  of 
ancient  piety  should  not  be  preserved  in  their  original  beauty  and 
magnificence.  But  in  the  least  opulent  places  they  must  be  pre- 
served in  becoming  repair;  and  every  thing  relating  to  the  divine 
service  be,  however,  decent  and  clean;  otherwise  we  shall  vilify  the 

should  be  not  only  good  policy,  but  wholesome  discipline  to  force 
men  in  England  to  come  to  church,  and  in  France  to  go  to  mass." 
And  again,  "  If  externals  have  this  virtue  to  enforce  religious  re- 
flections, it  must  be  right  to  compel  those  who  are  indisposed  to  such 
reflections  to  attend  these  memorials."  Yes;  granting  that  the  sense 
of  the  passage  in  the  Charge  is  not  shamefully  perverted,  and  that 
we  are  to  understand  the  Bishop  here  to  speak  of  external  force  and 
compulsion.  Whereas  by  "  religious  reflections  forced,"  is  plainly 
meant  no  more  than  religions  reflections  oftener  thrown  in  men's 
way,  brought  more  frequently  into  their  thoughts,  so  as  to  produce 
an  habitual  recollection  that  they  are  always  in  the  divine  presence. 
*  To  instruct  the  people  in  the  importance  of  external  religion.] 
"The  importance  of  external  religion,"  the  Inquirer  remarks,  "is 
the  grand  engine  of  the  papists,  which  they  play  with  the  greatest 
effect  upon  our  common  people,  who  are  always  soonest  taken  and 
ensnared  by  form  and  shew;  and,  so  far  as  we  concur  with  them  in 
the  principle,  we  are  doing  their  work;  since  if  externals,  as  such, 
are  important,  the  plain  natural  consequence  is,  the  more  of  them 
the  better."  He  had  the  same  reflection  once  before — "  If  true  reli- 
gion cannot  be  preserved  among  men  without  forms,  the  consequence 
must  be  that  the  Romish  religion,  having — more  frequent  occurrences 
of  forms,  is  better  than  other  religions  which  have  fewer  of  these — 
occurrences."  To  this  argument  I  reply,  J^^ego  consequentiam. 
There  may  be  too  much  of  form  in  religion,  as  well  as  too  little;  the 
one  leads  to  enthusiasm,  the  other  degenerates  into  superstition;  one 
is  puritanism,  the  other  popery— whereas  the  rational  worship  ot 
God  is  equally  removed  from  either  extreme.  Did  the  Inquirer 
never  hear  of  the  possibility  of  having  too  much  of  a  good  thing?  Or 
does  he  suppose,  with  the  late  historian  of  Great  Britain,  that  all 
religion  is  divided  into  two  species,  the  superstitious  and  the  fanati- 
cal; and  that  whatever  is  not  one  of  these  must  of  necessity  be  the 
otherP 


Clergy  of  Durham,  \75\.  235 

face  of  religion  whilst  we  keep  it  up.  All  this  is  indeed  principallj 
the  duty  of  others.  Yours  is  to  press  strongly  upon  them  what  is  their 
duty  in  this  respect,  and  admonish  them  of  it  often,  if  they  are  neg- 
ligent. 

But  then  you  must  be  sure  to  take  care  and  not  neglect  that  part 
of  the  sacred  fabrick  which  belongs  to  you  to  maintain  in  repair  and 
decency.  Such  neglect  would  be  great  impiety  in  you.  and  of  most 
pernicious  example  to  others.  Nor  could  you,  with  any  success,  or 
any  propriety,  urge  upon  them  their  duty  in  a  regard  in  which  you 
yourselves  should  be  openly  neglectful  of  it. 

Bishop  Fleetwood  has  observed,*  that  unless  the  good  publii  spirit 
of  building,  repairing,  and  adorning  churches  prevails  a  great  deal 
mure  among  us,  and  be  more  encouraged,  an  hundred  years  will  bring 
to  the  ground  an  huge  number  of  our  churches.  This  excellent  pre- 
late made  this  observation  forty  years  ago:  and  no  one,  I  believe,  will 
imagine  that  the  good  spirit  he  has  recommended  prevails  more  at 
present  than  it  did  then. 

But  if  these  appendages  of  the  divine  service  are  to  be  regarded, 
doubtless  the  divine  service  itself  is  more  to  be  regarded;  and  the 
conscientious  attendance  upon  it  ought  often  to  be  inculcated  upon 
the  people,  as  a  plain  precept  of  the  Gospel,  as  the  means  of  grace, 
and  what  has  peculiar  promises  annexed  to  it.  But  external  acts 
of  piety  and  devotion,  and  the  frequent  returns  of  them  are,  more- 
over, necessary  to  keep  up  a  sense  of  religion,  which  the  affairs  of 
the  world  will  otherwise  wear  out  of  men's  hearts.  And  the  fre- 
quent returns,  whether  of  public  devotions,  or  of  any  thing  else,  to 
introduce  religion  into  men's  serious  thoughts,  will  have  an  influence 
upon  them  in  proportion  as  they  are  susceptible  of  religion,  and  not 
given  over  to  a  reprobate  mind.  For  this  reason,  besides  others,  the 
service  of  the  church  ought  to  be  celebrated  as  often  as  you  can  have 
a  congregation  to  attend  it. 

But  since  the  body  of  the  people,  especially  in  country  places,  can- 
not be  brought  to  attend  it  oftener  than  one  day  in  a  week,  and  since 
this  is  in  no  sort  enough  to  keep  up  in  them  a  due  sense  of  religion, 
it  were  greatly  to  be  wished  they  could  be  persuaded  to  any  thing 
which  might,  in  some  measure,  supply  the  want  of  more  frequent 
public  devotions,  or  serve  the  like  purposes.  Family  prayers,  reg= 
ularly  kept  up  in  every  house,  would  have  a  great  good  effect. 

Secret  prayer,  as  expressly  as  it  is  commanded  by  our  Saviour, 
and  as  evidently  as  it  is  implied  in  the  notion  of  piety,  will  yet,  I 
fear,  be  grievously  forgotten  by  the  generality,  until  they  can  be 
brought  to  fix  for  themselves  certain  times  of  the  day  for  it;  siiiee 
this  is  not  done  to  their  hands,  as  it  was  in  the  Jewish  Church  by 
custom  or  authority.  Indeed,  custom,  as  well  as  the  manifest  pro- 
priety of  the  thing,  and  examples  of  good  men  in  Scripture,  justify 
us  in  insisting,  that  none  omit  their  prayers  morning  or  evening,  who 
have  not  thrown  off  all  regards  to  piety.  But  secret  prayer  compre- 
hends not  only  devotions  before  men  begin  and  after  they  have  ended 
the  business  of  the  day,  but  such  also  as  may  be  performed  while  they 
are  employed  in  it,  or  even   in  company.     And  truly,  if  besides  oar 

•  Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  St.  Asxph,  1710. 


236  Charge  to  the 

more  set  devotions,  morning  and  evening,  all  of  us  would  fix  upon  cer- 
tain  times  of  the  day,  so  that  the  return  of  the  hour  should  remind 
us  to  say  short  prayers,  or  exercise  our  thoughts  in  a  way  equivalent 
to  this,  perhaps  there  are  few  persons  in  so  high  and  habitual  a  state 
of  piety,  as  not  to  find  the  benefit  of  it.  If  it  took  up  no  more  than  a 
minute  or  two,  or  even  less  time  than  that,  it  would  serve  the  end  I 
am  proposing;  It  would  be  a  recollection  that  we  are  in  the  Divine 
Presence,  and  contribute  to  our  being  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the 
day  long. 

A  duty  of  the  like  kind,  and  serving  to  the  same  purpose,  is  the 
particular  acknowledgement  of  God  when  we  are  partaking  of  bis 
bounty  at  our  meals.  The  nr^glect  of  this  is  said  to  have  been  scan- 
dalous to  a  proverb  in  the  heathen  world;*  but  it  is  without  shame 
laid  aside  at  the  tables  of  the  highest  and  the  lowest  rank  among  us. 

And  as  parents  should  be  admonished,  and  it  should  be  pressed 
upon  their  consciences,  to  teach  their  children  their  prayers  and  cat- 
echism, it  being  what  they  are  obliged  to  upon  all  accounts,  so  it  is 
proper  to  be  mentioned  here,  as  a  means  by  which  they  will  bring  the 
principles  of  Christianity  often  to  their  own  minds,  instead  of  laying 
aside  all  thoughts  of  it  from  week's  end  to  we( " :'s  end. 

General  exhortations  to  piety,  abstracted  from  the  particular  cir- 
cumstances of  it,  are  of  great  use  to  such  as  are  already  got  into  a 
religious  course  of  life;  but  such  as  are  not,  though  they  be  touched 
with  them,  yet  when  they  go  away  from  cliurch  they  scarce  know 
where  to  begin,  or  how  to  set  about  what  they  are  exhorted  to.  And 
it  is  with  respect  to  religion  as  in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  in  which 
many  things  of  great  consequence  intended  are  yet  never  done  at 
all,  because  they  may  be  done  at  any  time,  and  in  any  manner;  which 
would  not  be,  were  some  determinate  time  and  manner  voluntarily 
fixed  upon  for  the  doing  of  them.  Particular  rules  and  directions, 
then,  concerning  the  times  and  circumstances  of  performing  ac- 
knowledged duties,  bring  religion  nearer  to  practice;  and  such  as  are 
really  proper,  and  cannot  well  be  mistaken,  and  are  easily  observed. 
Such  particular  rules  in  religion,  prudently  recommended,  would 
have  an  influence  upon  the  people. 

All  this  indeed  may  be  called  form,  as  every  thing  external  in  re- 
ligion may  be  merely  so.  And  therefore  whilst  wi^  endeavor  in 
these,  and  other  like  instances,  to  keep  up  the  form  of  godliness^ 
amongst  those  who  are  our  care,  and  over  wh(»m  we  have  any  influ- 
ence, we  must  endeavor  also  that  this  form  be  made  more  and  more 
subservient  to  the  power  of  it.t  Admonish  them  to  take  heed  that 
they  mean  what  they  say  in  their  prayers,  that  their  thoughts  and  in- 
tentions go  along  v.ith  their  words,  that  they  really  in  their  hearts 
exert  and  exercise  before  God  the  affections  they  express  with  their 
mouth.  Teach  them,  not  that  external  religion  is  nothing,  for  this 
is  not  true  in  an .  sense;  it  being  scarce  possible  but  that  it  will  lay 
some  sort  of  restrrjint  upon  a  man's  morals;  and  it  is  moreover  of 
good  ettect  with  respect  to  the  world  about  him.     But  teach  them 

•  Cudworth  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  page  8.  Casauh  in  Athenaeum.  L.  i.  c.  xi.  page 
22.     Duport  Prxl.  in  Theophrastum  Ed  Needham,  C  »x.  page  335,  &c 

t2Tim.  iii.  5. 


Clergy  of  Durhmn^  1751.  237 

tiiat  regard  to  one  duty  will  in  no  sort  atone  for  the  neglect  of  any 
other.  Endeavor  to  raise  in  their  hearts  such  a  sense  of  God  as  shall 
be  an  habitual,  ready  principle  of  reverence,  love,  gratitude,  hope, 
trust,  resignation  and  obedience.  Exhort  them  to  make  use  of  every 
circumstance  which  brings  the  subject  of  religion  at  all  before  themj 
to  turn  their  hearts  habitually  to  him;  to  recoUect  seriously  the 
thoughts  of  his  presence  in  whom  they  live  and  move  and  have  their 
being,  and  by  a  short  act  of  their  mind  devote  themselves  to  his  ser- 
vice. If,  for  instance,  persons  would  accustom  thetnselves  to  be 
thus  admonished  by  the  very  sight  of  a  church,  could  it  be 
called  superstition.^"  Enforce  upon  them  the  necessity  of  making 
religion  their  principal  concern,  as  what  is  the  express  condition  of 
the  gospel  covenant,  and  what  the  very  nature  of  the  thing  requires. 
Explain  to  them  the  terms  of  that  covenant  of  mercy,  founded  in 
the  incarnation,  sacrifice  and  intercession  of  Christ,  together  with 
the  promised  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  not  to  supersede  our 
own  endeavors,  but  to  render  them  effectual.  The  greater  festivals 
of  the  church  being  instituted  for  commemorr^iMng  the  several  parts 
of  the  gospel  history,  of  course  lead  you  to  explain  these  its  several 
doctrines,  and  shew  the  christian  practice  which  arises  out  of  them. 
And  the  more  occasional  solemnities  of  religion,  as  well  as  tiiese  fes- 
tivals, will  often  afford  you  the  fairest  opportunities  of  enforcing  all 
these  things  in  familiar  conversation.  Indeed  all  ajfectution  of  talk- 
ing piously  is  quite  nauseous;  and  though  there  be  nothing  of  this, 
yet  men  will  easily  be  disgusted  at  the  too  great  frequency  or  length 
of  these  occasional  admonitions.  But  a  word  of  God  and  Rkli- 
GioN  dropped  sometimes  in  conversation  gently,  and  without  any 
thing  severe  or  forbidding  in  the  manner  of  it,  this  is  not  unaccept- 
able. It  leaves  an  impression,  is  repeated  again  by  the  hearers,  and 
often  remembered  by  plain  well  disposed  persons  longer  than  one 
would  think.  Particular  circumstances  too  which  render  men  more 
apt  to  receive  instruction,  should  be  laid  hold  of  to  talk  seriously 
to  their  consciences.  For  instance,  after  a  man's  recovery  from  a 
dangerous  sickness,  how  proper  is  it  to  advise  him  to  recollect  and 
ever  hear  in  mind,  what  were  his  hopes  or  fears,  his  wishes  and  reso- 
lutions when  under  the  apprehension  of  death,  in  order  to  bnn^  him 
to  repentance,  or  confirm  him  in  a  course  of  piety,  according  as  his 
life  and  character  has  been.  So  likewise  the  terrible  accidents 
which  often  happen  from  riot  and  debauchery,  and  indeed  almost 
every  vice,  are  occasions  providentially  thrown  in  3'()ur  way  to  dis- 
course against  these  vices  in  common  conversation,  as  well  as  from 
the  pulpit,  upon  any  such  accidents  happening  in  your  parish,  or  in  a 
neigiiboring  one.  Occasions  and  circumstances  of  a  like  kind  te 
some  or  other  of  these  occur  often,  and  ought,  if  I  may  so  speak,  to 
be  catched  at,  as  opportunities  of  conveying  instruction,  both  publie 
and  private,  with  great  force  and  advantage. 

Public  instruction  is  also  absolutely  necessary,  and  can  in  no  sort 
be  dispensed  with.  But  as  it  is  common  to  all  w'ho  are  present,  many 
persons  strangely  neglect  to  appropriate  what  they  hear  to  them- 
selves, to  their  own  heart  and  life.  Now  the  only  remedy  for  this 
in  our  power  is  a  particular  personal  application.  And  a  personal 
application  makes  a  very  different  impression  from  a  common,  gen- 


238  Charge  to  the 

eral  one.  It  were  therefore  greatly  to  be  wished,  that  every  mau 
should  have  the  principles  of  Christianity,  and  his  own  particular 
duty  enforced  upon  his  conscience,  in  a  manner  suited  to  his  capa- 
city, in  private.  And  besides  the  occasional  opportunities  of  doing 
*his,  some  of  which  have  been  intimated,  there  are  stated  opportu- 
nities of  doing  it.  Such,  for  instance,  is  confirmation;  and  the 
usual  age  for  confirmation  is  that  time  of  life,  from  which  youth  must 
become  more  and  more  their  own  masters,  when  they  are  often  leav- 
ing their  father's  house,  going  out  into  the  wide  world  and  all  its  nu- 
merous temptations;  against  which  they  particularly  want  to  be  for- 
tified, by  having  strong  and  lively  impressions  of  religion  made  upon 
their  minds.  Now  the  sixty-first  canon  expressly  requires,  that  every 
minister  that  hath  care  of  souls  shall  use  his  best  endeavor  to  pre- 
pare and  make  able — as  many  as  he  can  to  be  confirmed;  which  can- 
not be  done  as  it  ought  without  such  personal  application  to  each  can- 
didate in  pai  icular  as  I  am  recommending.  Another  opportunity 
for  doing  this  is,  when  any  one  of  your  parishioners  signifies  his 
name,  as  intending  for  the  first  time  to  be  partaker  of  the  commun- 
ion. The  rubrick  requires  that  all  persons,  whenever  they  intend  to 
receive,  shall  signify  their  names  beforehand  to  the  minister:  which, 
if  it  be  not  insisted  upon  in  all  cases,  ought  absolutely  to  be  insisted 
I'pon  for  the  first  time.  Now  this  even  lays  it  in  your  way  to  dis- 
course with  them  in  private  upon  the  nature  and  benefits  of  this  sacra- 
ment, and  enforce  upon  them  the  importance  and  necessity  of  reli- 
gion. However,  1  do  not  mean  to  put  this  upon  the  same  foot  with 
catechising  youth  and  preparing  them  for  confirmation:  these  being 
indispensable  obligations,  and  expressly  commanded  by  our  canons. 
This  private  intercourse  with  your  parishioners  preparatory  to  their 
first  communion,  let  it.  if  you  please,  be  considered  as  a  voluntary 
service  to  religion  on  your  part,  and  a  voluntary  instance  of  docility 
on  theirs.  I  will  only  add  as  to  this  practice,  that  it  is  regularly 
kept  up  by  some  persons,  and  particularly  by  one,  whose  exemplary 
behaviour  in  every  part  of  the  pastoral  office  is  enforced  upon  you 
by  his  station  of  authority  and  influence  in  (this  part*  especially  of) 
the  diocese. 

1  am  very  sensible,  my  brethren,  that  some  of  these  things,  in  pla- 
ces v;liere  they  are  greatly  wanted,  are  impracticable  from  the  large- 
ness of  parishes,  suppose.  And  where  there  is  no  impediment  of 
this  sort,  yet  the  performance  of  them  will  depend  upon  others,  as 
well  as  upon  you.  People  cannot  be  admonished  or  instructed  in 
private,  unless  they  will  permit  it.  And  little  will  you  be  able  to  do 
in  forming  the  minds  of  children  to  a  sense  of  religion,  if  their  pa- 
rents will  not  assist  you  in  it;  and  yet  much  less,  if  they  will  frus- 
tra^e-your  endeavors,  by  their  bad  example,  and  giving  encourage- 
ment to  their  children  to  be  dissolute.  The  like  is  to  be  said  also  of 
your  inftuence  in  reforming  the  common  people  in  general,  in  pro- 
portion as  their  superiors  <ict  in  like  manner  to  such  parents;  and 
whilst  they,  the  lower  people  I  mean,  must  have  such  numerous 
temptations  to  drunkenness  and  riot  every  where  placed  in  their 
"/ay.     And  it  is  cruel  usage  we  often  meet  with,  in  being  censitieri 

'  The  Ari^Mencfjnry  of  Nortbr.tnTjerlani. 


Clergy  of  Durham,  1751.  239 

for  not  doing  what  we  cannot  do,  without,  what  we  cannot  have, 
the  concurrence  of  our  censurers.  Doubtless  very  much  reproach 
which  now  lights  upon  the  clergy  would  be  found  to  fall  elsewhere,  if 
due  allowances  were  made  for  things  of  this  kind.  But  then  we,  my 
brethren,  must  take  care  and  not  make  more  than  due  allowances  for 
them.  If  others  deal  uncharitably  with  us,  we  must  deal  impartiallj 
with  ourselves,  as  in  a  matter  of  conscience,  in  determining  what  good 
is  in  our  power  to  do;  and  not  let  indolence  keep  us  from  setting 
about  what  really  is  in  our  power,  nor  any  heat  of  temper  create  ob- 
stacles in  the  prosecution  of  it,  or  render  insuperable  such  as  we 
find,  when  perhaps  gentleness  and  patience  would  prevent  or  over- 
come them. 

Indeed  all  this  diligence  to  which  I  have  been  exhorting  you  and 
myself,  for  God  forbid  I  should  not  consider  myself  as  included  in 
ail  the  general  admonitions  you  receive  from  me;  all  this  diligence  in 
these  things  does  indeed  suppose  that  we  ^ive  ourselves  wholly  to 
them.  It  supposes,  not  only  that  we  have  a  real  sense  of  religion 
upon  our  own  minds,  but  also,  that  to  promote  the  practice  of  it  in 
others  is  habitually  uppermost  in  our  thought  and  intention,  as  the 
business  of  our  lives.  And  this,  my  brethren,  is  the  business  of  our 
lives,  in  every  sense,  and  upon  every  account.  It  is  the  general  bu- 
siness of  all  Christians  as  they  have  opportunity;  it  is  our  particular 
business.  It  is  so,  as  we  have  devoted  ourselves  to  it  by  the  most 
solemn  engagements;  as  according  to  our  Lord's  appointment  we 
live  of  the  gospel:*  and  as  the  preservation  and  advancement  of  reli- 
gion, in  such  and  such  districts,  are,  in  some  respects,  our  appropri- 
ated trust. 

By  being  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  this  our  trust,  by  thus  talcing 
heed  to  the  ministry  we  have  received  in  the  Lord  that  we  fulfil  i<,t 
we  shall  do  our  part  towards  reviving  a  practical  sense  of  religion 
amongst  the  people  committed  to  our  care.  And  this  will  be  the  se- 
curest barrier  against  the  efforts  of  infidelity;  a  great  source  of 
which  plainly  is,  the  endeavor  to  get  rid  of  religious  restraints.  But 
whatever  be  our  success  with  regard  to  others,  we  shall  have  the  ap- 
probation of  our  consciences,  and  may  rest  assured  that,  as  to  our- 
selves at  least,  our  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord.\ 

•  1  C«r.  ix  l+.        t  *«*•  '^'   '^*        t  1  Cor.  xv,  58. 


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